by Susan Crites

"We received a message from the s'atif clan today." Klosec spoke with his usual calm, but those words caused an instant silence to fall over the evening meal, with all attention centered on him. The s'atif clanstead bordered their own. In these times, by order of the government, the ancient blood feud with them was considered settled. No wrongs had been done to the s’ruessef clan by the s'atifs in living memory, but the elders of both sides remembered the tales of their elders. Contact was limited to emergencies. "They report seeing ngalas, a hunting pair, on their land. They say they killed the female, but the male passed over to our holdings." "Then we must certainly kill the other, to preserve our honor," Gior said instantly, only partly joking. "To preserve our stock as well," Klosec replied, frowning a mild reproof. Ngalas were voracious predators, fast for their large size, and when they migrated down from the Wild Lands, the only way to prevent a disastrous loss was to destroy them as quickly as possible. "So, perhaps more planning, less joking?" "I can free, hmm, three of the motorsleds from logging," Dyvat offered. Klosec nodded, then asked, "The wood cutting teams are working the river-side, yes? Not near where the ngala was reported?" "Yes, near the river." "Good. But tomorrow someone should check to make sure they carry adequate weapons. Just in case." Gior cleared his throat. "If you wish it, I could send Tegu out...." Klosec raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue only if he was intending a serious suggestion. Gior would not be chosen for a hunt except in extreme need, partly because of his age and partly his bad knee, which was at its stiffest in the cold and snow of winter. "With Philippi to handle him, of course. He works a hundredfold more willingly for her than he ever did for me." "Only Tegu under saddle?" "We hope all the mares are carrying -- I would prefer not to risk them. But Tegu can use the extra work. Being stalled too much makes him snappish." Klosec nodded acceptance of Gior’s wishes. "Next then, who will volunteer?" As he expected, most of those in attendance raised eager hands. Also as he expected, the one he most hoped to see involve himself did not. "Teiba, are you willing to go with Tegu and his rider?" Teiba did not quite manage to disguise his dismay, but assented after only an instant’s hesitation. "If that is where I am most needed, certainly." Another small silence rose, and those attending began to restively adjust their tableware or glance at one another. Finally Klosec said, "Ktas? Will you go with Teiba?" Ktas raised his head with an affected blink, pretending surprise. "I beg forgiveness, Eldest. I was not attending, as I did not think I would be chosen as a hunter. But of course I will go with Teiba...if you and he wish it." As had become far too usual, Ktas’s bland tone did not quite mask a taint of mocking hostility. But, also as usual, everyone pretended not to hear it. The informal meeting continued, and by meal’s end, the next day’s plans were set. *** Philippi slipped back into the kitchen, shivering from the chill of the pre-dawn courtyard. A few of those also up and waiting to head out on the hunting trip nodded at her before returning to their intent perusals of the clanstead maps. Teiba was not one of them, but he seemed to be equally busy, programming information off the maps into a handheld device. The contrast between the types of technology used here continually surprised her. Those huge maps, which had been carefully unfolded out of large ancient-looking leather cases, were printed on yellowing paper and currently laid out over huge wooden tables in a kitchen where they cooked with burning logs. Yet the teams gradually assembling in the big, partially lit room all carried sophisticated electronic aids, plus a number of what looked to her novice eyes like very modern weapons. Gior had explained the need and the plan to her the night before, and showed her the special saddle and pull-collar Tegu should wear. The tsaaka would also be carrying saddlebags full of gear, food and water for the long day ahead. Philippi had risen extra early to get him ready. Nothing for her to do now but wait. It was so early that the kitchen staff wasn’t even on duty yet. But there were bowls set out, and containers full of bread rolls. Philippi helped herself to the stew which was always simmering in the sort of built in pot on the back of one of the big stoves. From what she had observed over the months she had been here, the pot was never emptied, just restocked from whatever dishes weren’t quite finished after each day’s meals. There was probably some special cooking trick to it, because while it was tastier some days than others, it was never beneath Ordan’s high standards. She chose a spot to sit out of the way of those using the maps and discussing strategies, and began blowing on her stew to cool it. No one else looked nervous, although some of the younger men seemed excited by the prospect of the day’s adventure. Philippi hoped it was not going to be too exciting. Gior had made her role sound simple, but if she had learned anything here so far, it was that even simple things could be deadly. Unsurprisingly, Ktas was the last to join the group. He wandered in yawning and scratching his head as if it were any ordinary morning. Philippi happened to be watching Teiba, and noted his brief expression of annoyance, quickly masked. She had wondered, when Gior told her who she was to follow, if there was some plan at work here beyond hunting the creature which was such a threat to their animals. From what she had observed, and picked up listening to casual conversations, she was not the only one Ktas was no longer treating like a friend. Maybe this pairing up was intended to be some sort of male-bonding activity. If so, it was not getting off to a very good start. Once everyone had finished eating, the various groups formed up and filed out the door. Philippi edged out as soon as she could worm her way into the exit queue, in order to fetch Tegu as quickly as possible from where he waited in his stall. She led him into the courtyard under the disturbingly bright, rarely used, yard light overhead. It cast strange, sharp shadows, blue-orange against the packed and scraped snow. Teiba handed three cloth parcels to Philippi, and indicated with a gesture that they belonged in the saddlebags. After stowing them away, she mounted Tegu, who snorted and danced a bit for show as the three motorsleds roared out of the machine shed and past them, out the gate and up towards the hills. "Keep him still, but without talking to him endlessly," Ktas snapped at her. "Any noise while we are out trailing could attract the ngala." She wanted to ask tartly why it wouldn’t be attracted to those roaring engines, but all she did was nod. Teiba broke up the small conflict by consulting with Ktas over whatever the handheld said. Then they too headed towards the gate, without a backward glance, trusting Philippi to follow. The sounds of the motorsleds and the cones of light from their guidance lamps soon faded out, leaving only the squeaking crunch of boots and hooves in the frozen snow. The beam of the handlight Ktas carried reflected a little off the endlessly white terrain, but it still seemed thin and meager against the darkness all around. Philippi hoped the sun would rise soon. She knew it wouldn’t provide very much warmth, but a little was better than nothing. Despite wearing three layers of winter-weight clothes and socks, a thick, hooded work coat, heavy gloves and a face-masking hat, she was shivering. All of them were puffing out frosted clouds which pulsed in the air, eerily half-visible from the backlight of the handlight‘s beam, which made their surroundings seem that much more surreal. This was the first time she had had the opportunity to see Ktas and Teiba together for quite a long time -- maybe since before the trademeet? Not that she saw all that much of the family, despite having been moved back indoors to the guest room once the really cold weather had settled in. Philippi made it a practice to stay out of the way and keep to the barn as much as possible. Even though the general attitude towards her had warmed considerably in the wake of the astonishing prices the four young tsaakas had brought, she didn’t want to push her luck. Watching the supposed partners’ stiff wariness toward each other made it plain she had guessed correctly -- Ktas‘s strange bouts of hostility applied to everyone. Philippi thought maybe that was the true reason Ktas was insisting they not talk while out on their search. It made a face-saving excuse for what would otherwise be an awkward silence. They had traveled for quite some time when the path -- she assumed there was a path under the snow -- finally took them out of the cleared fields and into the trees. The snow was not as deep here, but deep enough that she was glad to be riding instead of trying to plow through it as Teiba and Ktas were doing, taking turns being in the lead to break a trail for the others. Although that might be warmer than just sitting quietly on Tegu, following along wherever it was they were going. The woods slowly lightened around them as they tramped on. Philippi had an idea they were cutting back and forth as they traversed the rolling hills, though she couldn‘t be sure, since all the bare trees looked alike to her. All she knew for certain was that they stopped every now and then to consult the little device Teiba carried, and that had to serve some purpose. The snow was deeper now that they were higher up, almost to Teiba’s knees. It was good to be able to see at last, but the dull light coming from the hazy sky was further broken up by the tangles of bare branches, and it didn’t lend much warmth. Philippi thought it might help if she had something to do, to distract her from the gnawing chill. But she had caught the sense of apprehension telegraphed by the tense alertness of the men‘s movements. The idea of speaking, even in a whisper, gave her an unpleasant shiver in her stomach. Teiba and Ktas kept up a constant surveillance in every direction. They seemed to know a code of communicating without words, and what little exchange of information they needed to make was couched in gestures and nods. The only thing she could think of to do was keep looking around as well, from her slightly higher vantage point. After what seemed like an eternity, Teiba signaled a stop in a small clearing atop a rise and indicated Philippi should dismount. She swung down from the saddle, and he opened the flap of the stiff leather saddlebag, pulling out the packets of food and containers of water. After accepting hers with a nod and a half-smile, she tucked it under her arm to get out the tied cloth that held a small amount of grain for Tegu. "Oh, of course you carried along a meal for the tsaaka," Ktas commented in a quiet but cutting murmur. "Are you not rather small to be his mother?" Teiba hissed at him, one quick sound, but the narrow-eyed glare he added continued until Ktas shrugged and turned away. Here near the ridge, the wind easily found them, and even standing partly out of it at Tegu’s side, Philippi felt like the cold had doubled. The tsaaka felt it too, despite his thick shaggy coat. He shuddered and hunched himself against it, stamping his feet in protest of their stop in such an open spot. As they all wolfed down their cold meatrolls, Ktas and Teiba consulted over the guidemap. The other teams had coded in status reports, which had been relayed by the radiosat at home. The group in the sector south of this one had made the only find of the day thus far, a single set of tracks heading directly back into the s'atif holdings. Reading this, Ktas felt he could risk speaking aloud. "Their plan to sweep the rest of the border in their assigned sector makes sense. Suppose we do that as well, and then return if we find nothing?" "Agreed," Teiba said. "We cannot hunt what is not here." This very small exchange, this sense of being in tune again with his partner, his world, if only for a moment, was almost too much for Ktas to deal with. As time had passed, he had succeeded in shutting down all but tiny feelings, those emotions and reactions he could bear without losing control. So instead of continuing the conversation he only said, "Shall I send?" and held out his hand. Teiba passed the guidemap to him without comment and turned away to replace his water holder and foodwrap in the saddlebag. Philippi gave him a half-questioning glance, which he ignored. They were soon underway again, but now going mostly northwest in an almost straight line. The hillside canted beneath them, but not steeply. Tegu could tell they were heading back towards home, and he began to test the bit against Philippi’s hands, half in play. Abruptly the trees gave way to a clearing, a large one that ran halfway down the slope. Philippi wondered what had caused it -- a long ago forest fire, maybe? Teiba and Ktas stopped to examine it from the relative shelter of the tree trunks, then began to cross. Tegu followed a few steps before stopping dead and snorting in alarm, head flung high. Philippi felt it like an electric shock running into her, his swift change from composure to fear. Teiba hurried to the tsaaka’s side. "What?" he said, so quietly Philippi almost couldn’t hear. "Something is making him afraid," she said, trying to pitch her voice equally low. Ktas joined them, protesting, "The wind is from behind us, he cannot smell anything." Teiba made up his mind in an instant. "Out, to the center, where we can see!" Ktas followed his partner’s command without question. "Spread out and watch," he said to Philippi, then followed his own advice. She urged the nervously dancing tsaaka forward, no happier with the situation than he was. The handicap of the deep snow only made her apprehension worse. They were moving in a large triangle formation, and had advanced almost to the center of the small meadow when a low burbling growl and the sound of breaking branches came from higher up the hill. Tegu squealed and fought to bolt, but then steadied under Philippi’s automatic correction and was satisfied just to duck back a few paces, swinging around so he could at least see what his instinct told him was death coming on the run. Moving incredibly fast, like an avalanche of fur and snarling teeth, the ngala propelled itself towards the closest target, Teiba. He had reacted as quickly as the tsaaka, also facing himself towards the nightmare beast, but in a different way, unlimbering his weapon as he dropped to one knee, firing as the thing barreled down upon them. Galvanized far more by horror than fear for his own survival, Ktas bolted towards the imminent carnage, yanking his weapon to the fore as he fought to gain the few yards that would give him a chance at a killing shot. He had been issued an indifferent rifle, since it was truth that a good one would be wasted on him, with his poor eyesight. Unless he could gain a clear line of fire, there was every chance he might miss and shoot Teiba. But there was no time, and his mind shrieked silent despair as he smashed forward through the deep, hampering snow. Several of Teiba’s shots sank home, each shocking the ngala back for a fraction of an instant. But still it came, and now Teiba needed to reload. He had once matched a speed record for it at training camp, and his hands still knew the drill, but -- A terrified scream broke behind him. Teiba did not pause to look back; there was no point. But even as his fingers finished slamming home the ammopack, he did look, his gaze forced up by the startling flash of something coming past at speed, from behind him. Teiba was already raising the rifle again, half-ready to turn and put in a futile final defense against this new threat. Then his brain managed to make sense of what he was witnessing. In a panicked fury, urged on by his screeching rider, Tegu was charging full-speed at the ngala. Shocked out of its attack by this counter-challenge, the monstrous creature skidded to a halt, then roared defiance as it reared up swaying, clawing at the air. Blood spots were blossoming on the pale fur of its chest. Tegu stopped too, and reared as well, then whirled to plunge away, away towards the treeline...away from the place where Teiba and Ktas were nearly helpless on the ground. Its focus tricked onto a new target, the ngala slammed its forefeet to the ground and began to give chase, but haltingly now. Four more shots burst out, rapid but deliberately placed. Teiba raised his reloaded weapon, adding to the hail of fire, and the ngala crumbled, rolling and falling to end in a twitching heap. Peering back over her shoulder, Philippi saw the creature collapse. She signaled Tegu to circle back around, and gradually persuaded him to stop. When he saw no pursuing threat, the tsaaka was willing to jog over to where the ngala lay crumpled, snow plowed up before its massive shoulders, looking oddly as though it was hiding its head from those who had defeated it. "Stay back!" Ktas shouted, when he noticed her approach. He gave Teiba a quick glance, not yet trusting himself to speak normally, then faced towards the conquered ngala, holding his rifle out at arm’s length. As he expected, Teiba copied him without question. Slowly, they crept up with half-steps until they were close enough to prod the enormous mound of gray and black fur. It did not even twitch. Only then did Ktas allow himself to let go of the day’s tension and the dread of what had almost been. He reached out to grab Teiba and hug his shoulders hard, just for a moment, with one arm. Teiba understood the need for both the contact and the urge to minimize the reaction. He grinned briefly and thumped a fist on Ktas’s shoulder in wordless agreement. Ktas waved permission for Philippi to ride in to them, then began to dig in his pockets for the guidemap. He pulled off his right glove, flexed his fingers to warm them, then quickly coded the message of their successful kill. He knew it was unlikely that any of the other teams were close enough to give timely help with the work of dressing out the carcass, so he did not bother to request assistance. By the time he had finished, Teiba was already rooting in Tegu’s saddlebags for the pulling ropes. Philippi had prudently ridden the tsaaka to the upwind side of the dead ngala, and now Tegu was standing patiently, for him, awaiting his next task. The two men kicked through the snow around the ngala, looking for its other forepaw, which of course turned out to be firmly wedged under the massive body. "We can use the head, at need," Ktas remarked. "But let us try...." He looped one end of one rope around the foot they could reach, then walked around to snap it onto Tegu’s pull-collar. "Get him to pull the thing forward a little, at my command," he told Philippi. Teiba again followed his lead as he grabbed onto the ngala’s long, thick fur. "Go!" Ktas shouted, and threw his back into dragging the dead animal off its imprisoned foreleg. Teiba’s added strength was just enough to let them manage it. "Stop!" Tegu snorted protest, the sound oddly loud in the silent, snowy waste. Ktas went to Philippi again. "Now we will cut it open," he explained. "Removing most of the insides will make it easier for Tegu to drag home. Try to keep him still, and facing as he is -- the blood smell might make him try to run away." "I will," Philippi said seriously. Whatever would make this end the quickest was fine with her. Their intent of easing Tegu’s job surprised her a little, but she supposed that was just Waeseran practicality again. Ktas and Teiba went to work, as efficiently as if they did this sort of thing every day. Philippi had never seen an actual formerly living creature disemboweled. It was disgusting, yet fascinating. The realization that the bloody butchering could have easily gone the other way around made her feel quite a bit less distressed. Even though the animal somewhat resembled a bear -- a big weasel-looking sort of bear -- she couldn’t feel too sorry for something that preyed on tsaakas. The wind sharpened as the men worked. Even standing as close as she could to Tegu‘s warm body didn‘t seem to be helping Philippi stay warm. She felt sick and shaky, probably a belated reaction to the danger. "We’ll be heading back soon, boy," she murmured, trying to lift her own spirits. It was good that that thing was no longer a threat to the tsaakas or the other animals belonging to the family, and she was unequivocally relieved that their little group was all alive and unharmed. But she was cold through and through, her boots had gotten snow in them, and in general, whatever faint interest she had felt in this expedition had long since waned. She wanted nothing more than to be home, huddled in her bed under a thick layer of blankets. That goal seemed miserably far away. The two men did not speak much as they worked, racing against the waning day. Once, Teiba pointed out a bullet of the caliber Ktas’s weapon used, which had nicked the heart vein. "I think perhaps you got the killing shot." Ktas shrugged off the implied praise. "Takes many more than one, with these things. You had it in the lungs at least three times that I have seen." Neither of them felt like dwelling on exactly how close they had come to losing this battle, not still out in the wild a long journey from home, and so the talk faded again. With a few more helpful pulls from Tegu, they managed to finish gutting the carcass, reducing its weight to that of only about three hefty grown men. Teiba shared out the last of the meatrolls as Ktas took a reading with the guidemap and planned the quickest route home. Philippi insisted on leading Tegu instead of making him carry her too. Ktas didn’t bother to argue, just shrugged in annoyance and headed off. Teiba seemed ready to insist she obey their orders, but when she explained that she wanted to walk because it would help her get warm, he relented, and followed Ktas without further comment. It seemed colder once they were back in the trees. The daylight slanting in held no warmth at all, in fact, it felt like a threat, pointing out that darkness was coming fast, bringing yet more of a chill factor. At least, Philippi thought, they were mostly going in a straight line now, only veering when the trees were too close together for the ngala body to fit between. She wished Ktas and Teiba would talk now, to give her something to think about besides the pain in her hands and feet, and how tired she was. Although it would probably be hard for her to hear them, because they were slowly but steadily drawing further and further ahead of her. Eventually they noticed this, and came trudging back. Even through the face-covering hat Philippi could see Ktas was angry. "You are holding us back!" he snapped when they came up to her. "Stop this foolishness and ride the forsaken tsaaka!" She started to protest, and he interrupted with the threat, "Either ride, or fall behind as I lead him. I do not care which." Before she could give the retort that sprang to her mind, that she would enjoy seeing him try to get Tegu to follow him without her help, Teiba surprised them both by breaking in, speaking to her with uncharacteristic diplomacy. "You know Tegu is strong enough for the task -- he is least tired of all of us, I would say. If you ride him, we will get home that much sooner, and he will be back in his warm barn that much quicker." Philippi had to admit that made sense. So she ignored whatever it was that Ktas muttered under his breath, and let Teiba give her a boost up into the saddle. Which made her realize that she was more tired than she had thought, because she hadn’t needed a leg up to reach a saddle since she was ten. Once she was aboard, they headed off again at a much quicker pace, and she had to admit that Tegu didn’t seem to notice the difference. Plus she must have gotten warmed up enough with the walking she had already done, because she didn’t feel as cold, and her hands and feet didn’t hurt anymore, either. In fact, she felt like she could almost drift off to sleep, as Tegu rocked her back and forth, following the two silhouettes between her and the glowing handlight showing them the path home. *** When they came out of the woods at last, Ktas stopped a moment to hold the handlight against his coat. "What?" asked Teiba, instantly alert to the possibility of some new danger. "Can you see that, ahead, or am I --" Ktas broke off, for some reason unwilling to have to speak aloud of his bad eyesight. "A sort of glow in the distance? Is that the light in the keepyard?" "Should be," Ktas said, relieved. He pointed their handlight back onto the path. "Not long now." Saving their breath for walking, they stepped out again. Within half a sakke they came upon a broken snow trail left by one of the motorsleds, which let them pick up their pace yet further. When they finally drew near the courtyard, Ktas switched off the handlight and tucked it into his pocket. As Teiba opened the big gate, Ktas, feeling more elated than he had in months, grabbed the rope pull and banged the huge ancient gong, making it ring with a rumbling metallic clamor he knew could be heard deep inside the keep’s walls. As soon as there was enough of a gap for him to squeeze through, Tegu shouldered in past Teiba and pulled his burden up to the barn door. There he stopped, head hanging, clearly as wrung out as any of the others. Ktas walked up to unsnap the pull ropes. "You can get down now," he said pointedly to Philippi, who was still huddled over the tsaaka’s neck. When she didn’t reply, Ktas shook her leg, feeling quite annoyed that she might have actually fallen asleep while he and Teiba had to walk. To his dismay, she came sliding down without straightening, without even twitching her legs. "Teiba, to me!" Ktas called out, startled, as he clutched at Philippi’s limp body. Teiba was already trudging up towards the barn door, but now he broke into a run. As soon as he saw what was happening, he ducked under Tegu’s head to free Philippi’s foot from the far stirrup. Coming back to the near side, he helped Ktas finish fumbling her other foot free, which left her slumped in Ktas’s arms, as slack as one dead. "Get her inside," Teiba advised, looking grim at this new setback. "I will unhook the ngala." Ktas had started moving even before Teiba finished speaking. As he neared the back entrance, it opened to emit a cheerful, excited swarm of family members, eager to greet the returning heroes. But the sight of him carrying a member of his hunting party made the happy voices break off into confused and apprehensive silence. Gior was one of those present, and he saw at a glance who Ktas carried. "What happened?" he demanded, horrified. "No idea yet," Ktas replied, brushing past him. "Better get Tattei." Those still in the halls stepped back in haste as he lumbered through the kitchen, heading for the infirmary. Once inside, he laid Philippi on the examining table. She lay unmoving -- bundled up as she was, he could not even tell whether she was breathing. Using his teeth, he yanked off his ice-crusted glove, then clumsily peeled back her face mask. Her skin was paler than he had ever seen it, even back when she first came to them half-starved and near death. Ktas tried to feel for a pulse at her neck, but his own hand was too numb from cold to sense anything but relative warmth. At least that was a slightly hopeful sign. He paused only a moment, then jerked off his other glove so he could start trying to remove hers. They were icy too, and her hands were oddly stiff, considering how limp the rest of her body was. Tattei came bustling in. "Let me," she said, stepping up close and shouldering him back a pace. "This needs care, I fear." Ktas looked to Gior, who had followed Tattei. The older man’s unguarded expression was bleak. As Tattei delicately peeled the glove off Philippi’s hand, revealing red and swollen fingers edged in white, Gior began to quietly curse. "Can you unfasten her boots?" Tattei said to him, as she leaned over her patient to get at the other glove. Gior nodded and began to do so. "But...why is she wearing these?" he wondered aloud as he pulled one free. Small clumps of half-melted snow pattered to the floor, with a sound like spilling blood. Tattei moved away to begin gathering the supplies she was going to need. Gior spared a accusing glance at Ktas, who was just staring, bewildered. He worked the other boot off as gently as he could, and then removed three pairs of wet socks. Peeling the last ones off revealed her feet to be in even worse shape than her hands. Unable to speak for fear he would say much too much, Gior strode angrily from the room. Tattei was still bringing things down from shelves and out of drawers, but she noticed when Gior left. "Get all those wet things off," she told Ktas, automatically making him her assistant in Gior’s stead. "From her or me?" Ktas asked, half a joke and half a complaint, too tired to have any better sense. Tattei rounded on him. "Either help me, or do not!" she snapped. "If you cannot be bothered, or are too incapacitated, go find me a replacement!" He hastened to obey her first instruction, though his face was mulish. ‘Wrong again, Ktas, wrong again,’ he snarled at himself. Could no one see he already knew he was to blame for this, even if he did not yet quite know exactly how? But despite his anger, and the burning of his own hands as they warmed -- not that it did not somehow feel right he should be punished in that way -- he had managed to remove the several layers of coat and pants and shirts Philippi had worn by the time Tattei was ready for her patient. Her underthings seemed dry enough, and still held a little body heat, so he left those, certain Tattei would correct him instantly if that was the wrong choice. "Can you put her here?" Tattei asked, pointing at a large wooden chair draped in a blanket. The lolling of Philippi's unconscious body made it oddly more difficult, but Ktas managed to get her scooped up and then positioned according to Tattei’s instructions. The older woman deftly folded the blanket so that it covered Philippi snuggly from hips to knees. "Keep her upright a few moments more," she said, and as Ktas complied, she wrapped a wide folded cloth around her patient’s waist, tying it so it would prevent her from slumping off the chair. Tattei picked up a small square fur blanket, which had a hole cut in the center, and gave it a brisk shake. This she tucked over Philippi’s upper body, fur side in, with her head coming out of the hole. Tattei allowed the unconscious woman’s head to sag against one shoulder, so Ktas did not try to adjust it, although it did not look at all like a comfortable position. Next, Tattei wrestled a wide-mouthed plastic barrel, which was almost as large as some of Ordan’s biggest soup cauldrons, up under Philippi’s legs. After some adjusting to get the temperature right, she began to fill a smaller bucket with warm water, to which she added a measure of salt. This she poured in over Philippi’s feet. Two more put the water at a satisfactory level. "Can I do anything else, Aunt?" Ktas eventually dared to ask. He was taking no chances of earning himself yet another scolding. "In a moment." Tattei fitted a tray onto the arms of the wooden chair, and then set a soaking basin on it. After pouring in more salt water and laying Philippi’s hands into it, she straightened and turned to Ktas. "Now, let me see you." Ktas silently presented his hands, which were reddened, but otherwise normal looking. "How do your feet feel?" "Cold. But I feel them." Tattei leaned forward and put her ear against his chest without warning. Ktas sighed an extra heavy breath. After a few more, Tattei pulled back, temporarily satisfied. "If you would carry away all this extra clothing...and then send Teiba for me to look over?" Feeling oddly as though he were escaping capture, Ktas hurried out, arms full of damp garments mostly not his own. He dumped the load on the washing porch beside a neatly folded pile of blood-smeared outerwear that could only have been placed there by Teiba. A quick look into the kitchen as he passed netted him a handful of cheese-folds to sustain him as he searched for his partner. Teiba was not in the dining hall. A few heads turned as Ktas peeked in, none wearing welcoming smiles. The grim silence of the atmosphere made him glad he was on a mission and thus had an excuse to move on. Heading up the stairs, he met Teiba coming down, now dressed in dry clothing. "There you are," Teiba said. "I thought you had gone to your room already." "Tattei wants to look you over," Ktas said indistinctly, due to half a cheese-fold being in his mouth. He proffered his last two, but Teiba shook his head. "Going up to change," Ktas mumbled. Teiba nodded, but in a preoccupied way, already back in motion down the stairs. It roused the bizarre urge Ktas sometimes felt to scream, "See me!!" and perhaps follow with -- no. No. He pushed the feeling down and away with a shudder, and instead went up the stairs without a sound. Teiba met Gior in the hall, coming in from the opposite way. "What news?" he asked, certain that if there was any to be had, Gior would have it. "Cold sickness, and maybe frozen hands and feet as well," Gior said. "She went off in ordinary gear, not the icework rated kind." The natural question that followed did not need to be asked. Teiba ducked his head only a moment, then drew himself up, prepared to accept the blame. "I should have checked." "Or Ktas. Or even I," Gior replied, sighing. "But I did not even think of it. I told her what the tsaaka must wear, and that was all." "I should have known to check, because I had to be specially informed about what your winter here requires," Teiba explained, referring to how he had once been a newcomer to these harsh northern climes. "Kt--ah...someone made sure I knew the difference. Several times over, in fact. I should have remembered." "Too late now to point fingers," Gior said, forgetting he had been completely prepared to do so only moments ago. "What is, is." He shook his head and pushed open the infirmary door. Teiba followed him in. They found Tattei trying to fit a small rolled towel in under Philippi’s neck, to lift her head a bit. "No change?" Gior said. "She is stirring now and then," Tattei answered as she gave it up for the moment and stood erect, pushing at her stiff back to ease it, as she often had to do these days. "Ah, Teiba, good. Let me see your hands." They were reddened and looked chapped, but he flexed them briskly to show he had full usage. "I am well, Aunt." Tattei just nodded, and then spoke to Gior. "I have no way to guess what will happen next with her. If she were one of us, I would be concerned but not discouraged. But her systems are not the same as ours, you see it." Gior’s doleful grimace showed he did indeed. "I do not even know what medications I may safely give her when she wakes." ‘If she wakes,’ her eyes seemed to add. "Perhaps I can help a little there," Teiba suggested, with the diffidence he still showed to those he instinctively treated as superior officers. "If I put in a request through the computer line to the right official agency, they might be able to provide us with what is known about Terrans’ bodies and processes. And perhaps the fees will not be too high." "Do it. I will give you notes on what to ask for, as soon as I get a chance," Tattei said. As the family’s chief healer, making a medical decision was her right and her duty. "But...if the fees seem high, consult with me first." They were interrupted by a sound, the faintest hint of a plaintive whimper, coming from Philippi. Gior reacted first, and knelt carefully down beside her chair, favoring his bad knee but not allowing it to stop him. "Philippi? Can you hear me?" Her lips moved, but no sound came out at first. She managed better on the second try. "Gior?" "I am here. How do you feel?" "Bad." But she opened her eyes and did her best to smile as she said it. Then she jerked, and tried to rise, her body responding with spasmodic, unconnected motion as Gior tried to calm her. "Where -- Tegu! Is he safe?" Teiba, watching from the corner of the crowded little room, snorted an unwilling laugh. Even half-dead, her first concern was for her charges. Sometimes she did seem almost Waeseran. "He is. I have seen to his care myself, and he even seemed grateful, for a change," Gior told her, making an obvious effort to joke as if nothing were wrong. Philippi visibly relaxed again. "He has his food, and extra bedding in his stall as a reward. I even rubbed his legs with liniment." Eyes drooping shut, Philippi said "Good," in a drowsy tone that made Gior shake her arm without thinking. "Ow!" she cried out, jolted yet closer back to full reality. "Gior!" Tattei scolded. "You splashed the water out! Show some sense!" As she bustled in to mop and neaten, Philippi realized where she was, and straightened in her chair in alarm. "What happened?" she whispered to Gior. "You got too cold," he told her, and it was clear to the other two Waeserans that he was hoping to minimize to her the danger she was in. "But Tattei is fixing you." "Oh, good," Philippi said vaguely. Her attempt to lift her hands up earned her a sharp, discouraging noise from Tattei and she stilled herself instantly. Tattei dabbled her hand in the water of the footbath and frowned. She straightened up and went to a shelf where numerous bottles of varying sizes stood in rows. Taking down one of the larger ones, she poured a small glass half full. "Have her start to drink this," she told Gior. Gior pressed himself back to his feet, then took the glass with a knowing nod. Philippi half started to reach for it, but Gior said, "No, leave your hands as they are," and held the glass to her lips. The strong fumes made her jerk her head back instinctively. "Is that...medicine?" she asked, stalling for time. Gior just laughed. "Yes, at the moment. It is sravan." Then he made his voice serious. "You will need it. Your hands and feet are going to hurt as the blood begins to run in them again." "It will make that happen faster, as well," Tattei added. She knelt to draw water out of the foot bath through a spigot. As she headed to the sink, Teiba stepped forward, willing to take the small pail from her, but she brushed past him, intent on her work. To please Gior, Philippi took a mouthful of the brown liquid, and managed to get it swallowed before she began coughing. Her eyes watered in reaction to the searing high-proof spirits. Unable to pat her back because of the chair she sat in, Gior gingerly tapped her shoulder. "Good?" he asked, when he thought she was breathing enough again to speak. "Mmm," she answered with a non-committal sound, not wanting to seem ungrateful. Tattei poured in new warm water, and Philippi hissed a little intake of breath between clenched teeth. "Feeling is starting to come back, then?" the healer asked matter-of-factly. Philippi nodded, and when Gior pressed another drink on her, she did not protest. "Gior, if you would take this container to the kitchen and have it filled with more salt?" Tattei said, after she finished pouring. "Of course," he said, exchanging the glass of sravan for it. "I will be back as quickly as may be." "Can I help, Aunt?" Teiba asked, stepping up again. "I know we interrupted you at your meal. If you show me what to do, I can watch her while you finish eating." "It is you who needs to eat," Tattei retorted. "Ktas, or someone, could bring me a plate," he suggested. Tattei set the glass down on her counter as she listened. "This problem was caused partly by my error," Teiba continued in a lower voice. "It is not right that you should be put to trouble when someone else made it happen." "That is almost always what brings me my work, someone else‘s error," Tattei said dryly. "Did you never think of that?" His face took on a respectfully resigned look, as though he expected her to start berating him, now that she had been reminded of his culpability. "No, I suppose I did not, Aunt." She half-smiled, and he dared to press again. "It is only...I would welcome the chance to make up a little for my failure. If you thought you could trust me to do the task properly." "Hmm." In truth, Tattei had not yet grown fully accustomed to having an alien present within the family, and was not especially eager to keep sick watch with this one. A useful volunteer was not unwelcome. "Well, see if you can get her to drink more of the sravan." Quelling the reaction that told him to acknowledge receipt of orders with a salute, Teiba edged past Tattei and picked up the glass. He looked down and met Philippi’s gaze, then raised one eyebrow, silently asking whether she intended to give him any trouble. She stared back steadily, seeming unafraid but not rebellious, which he took as a good sign. "Ready?" "Yes." Tipping her the drink was markedly easier than he remembered the task being when he used to help baby Xahni with a cup. Again she shuddered all over in reaction, but managed to keep it down despite a strangled cough of protest from her burning throat. Gior returned, bearing the salt and a big mug. "From Ordan himself," he told Philippi. "Warm jam tea. That will help the sravan go down a little easier, I think." At this last he looked a question at Tattei. Tattei’s momentary inclination to spurn Ordan‘s intrusion into her area of responsibility lost out to the recognition that it was not a bad idea. "So long as it is not too warm," she agreed, after a moment. Gior took the glass from Teiba and poured all its contents into the mug, then indicated he should top it off with more from the bottle standing on the counter. After stirring it briskly, he offered it to Philippi. She drank several swallows, and although she still could not help making a face at the aftertaste, agreed wanly that it was a vast improvement. With a faint "Humph!" Tattei turned back to her work area and indicated Teiba should attend to what she was doing. "The water should be only warm, not hot, like this." He dutifully tested what she had just drawn with his forefinger. "Then, this measure of salt into this size pail, and stir it." As he did so, she explained, "The rule in life-chemistry is that ‘water goes to salt’. In a cold injury like this, the body fluids get trapped in the hands and feet, and cells are damaged as they freeze. Drawing out water lessens the skin swellings after, as well as decreasing the overall damage." "I will remember, Aunt." Gior backed out of the way as Tattei returned to her patient, Teiba a step behind with the bucket of fresh warm salt water. "Lift up your arms," Tattei told Philippi, who complied. She picked up the basin and dumped it in the sink. "Lay your hands down on the towel a moment," Tattei said next. After observing them, distressingly dark purple-red now and still held half-clawed, she asked, "Can you move them?" Philippi did, but instantly gasped in pain. At Tattei’s commanding glance, Gior held out the mug, and this time Philippi drank as much as she could manage before having to take a breath. As Tattei guided her hands back into the basin and instructed Teiba to pour in new water, Philippi tried hard to blink back tears. "I am going to go finish my meal," Tattei told Gior. "Teiba has said he will stay here to watch her." "I could, also," Gior said, uncertain about the wisdom of the arrangement. "If you like, of course. But I am willing," Teiba responded, as always the model of correctness. "You could go find Ktas, and tell him to bring Teiba some food," Tattei suggested to Gior. "As he is probably somewhere near the food already," she added with a disapproving frown. "Very well, I will go and do that," Gior agreed. In truth he did not mind an excuse to not have to watch his little assistant suffer through the next few sakke. To Philippi he said, "I will come later to see how you go on, yes?" She nodded, trying to smile. "You will see, things will be better for you soon." Once Tattei and Gior left, there was much more room to maneuver in the small infirmary. After taking a moment to examine the area, Teiba pulled a small chair out from under a table against the wall and placed it right beside Philippi, facing her on the diagonal. He was determined to complete his penance with diligence and efficiency. Although it was far too soon for the water in the foot bath to need changing, he checked the temperature anyway. Yes, still warm. The hand basin was within acceptable limits as well. The next task on his mental roster was getting the patient to drink more of her makeshift anesthetic. He was startled to note, once he looked at her face, that she was silently weeping in earnest now. Making up his mind to assume it because of the pain from her thawing extremities, and not a reaction to being left in his care, Teiba rose to his feet briefly to get the mug off the work counter. He held it up for her and again she took several long drinks, before she half-choked and had to stop. "Beg forgiveness," he muttered. "Did I hold it too high for you?" "No, that was not --" She broke off to sniff deeply, then cough a little. "My nose," she said apologetically, sniffling again. "Ah. I did not think." Teiba rose to peruse the shelves, and quickly spotted some thin wiping cloths. He started to hold one out to her and remembered her current handicap just in time. Casually, as though it was what he had meant to do all along, Teiba positioned the wipe cloth so she could blow her nose. Hiding his disgust behind a practiced blank facade, he then fastidiously wiped her upper lip, leaving it neat and clean, though still a bit red. She looked embarrassed by his attentions, or perhaps only the need for them. "I can tell you have a baby," she murmured. "You do that so well." Her attempt at a light remark served to remind him again of Xahni, and that it was in no small part due to the woman before him that he still had the privilege of watching his son grow a little older. The too-personal assistance did not seem quite so repellent when he considered that. "Mmm. Yet, perhaps it would be best for us both if you drink some more sravan. Gior did tell you the thawing was going to hurt." "Gior was right," she muttered, but obediently drank almost all the rest of what was in the mug. They sat in silence for a while. Teiba could tell she was trying to not make annoying sounds. Which were mostly annoying, he admitted, because it was so frustrating not to be able to do very much about the cause of them. His other feelings of annoyance abated when Ktas at last turned up with a plate of food for him, plus another mug of jam tea for Philippi. "How did you ever get trapped into doing this?" Ktas grumbled, holding Teiba’s plate while his partner stirred a large serving of sravan into Philippi’s new drink and then gave her another dose. "I offered," Teiba said tersely, taking his food. "What?! Why?" Teiba only shrugged in irritation and took refuge in filling his mouth too full for talk. Happily, Ktas took this as it was intended, a demand for the discussion to take place later and elsewhere, if at all. As a ruse, it had the benefit of reality; they had both put in a very full day of physical effort on minimal rations.... ‘Not both, all,’ Teiba suddenly thought, and cut a quick glance at Philippi. Surely Tattei would have arranged her to be fed if she thought it was needed? He did not much relish the idea of daring to question Tattei, but if she had forgotten, in all the excitement.... Then again, perhaps there was some medical reason for not feeding her yet. "I wonder if we should go ask Tattei what to feed her?" Teiba said to Ktas, pointing at their temporary charge. "Please feel free to, if you wish," Ktas responded with exquisite courtesy. "I myself have been scolded more than enough tonight." He underscored his lack of intention to leave the area by perching himself on the exam table with a solid thump. "Do not trouble," Philippi told Teiba, with giddy seriousness that indicated the sravan was definitely taking effect. "I am doing well enough drinking my meal." "So I can see," Teiba replied sardonically, which make Ktas bark a small, edged laugh. Silence again descended as Teiba polished off his much delayed meal, although he did keep an eye on the clock and stop in the middle to give Philippi more to drink. That gave Ktas the idea to put the original glass to use, and he brazenly helped himself to some of the sravan. "Did this taste odd to you?" he asked Teiba. "I did not taste it," Teiba replied coldly, hoping Ktas had not come up with the notion of teasing Philippi by pretending the sravan was spoiled. Which, so far as he had ever known, was not even possible. "I think it may have been setting in here too long," Ktas said, with the judicious air of a connoisseur. "Perhaps we should drink it all so that Tattei can get a new bottle." "Perhaps you can explain that to Tattei when you see her next," Teiba said, trying to make it sound like a joke. "Pah," Ktas grumbled, but semi-cheerfully, swigging away at his drink. Philippi was studiously, but not particularly subtly, ignoring him. Sighing silently, Teiba set his empty plate aside and rose to change the water again. Ktas was not exactly in the way, and Teiba was able to draw out the cooling water from the spigot in the foot bath and add more without much trouble. He gave Philippi yet another drink, then said apologetically, "I need to change the water your hands are in." She nodded, and gripped her lower lip tightly in her teeth as she lifted them out so Teiba could remove the basin. "Ow," she murmured when she placed them on the towel. Ktas leaned over for a better look. "Not so good," he judged aloud, and Teiba was suddenly sure he had already helped himself to some sravan elsewhere before coming into the infirmary. "Are her feet that bad too?" Silently willing Ktas to seal his foolish face, Teiba nevertheless answered, "Yes." He brought the basin and bucket back over, and helped Philippi get her hands arranged and submerged again. "Does Tattei think she will heal?" "She says we must wait and see, but that she was hopeful." Ktas seemed to finally realize he was somehow being indiscrete. Perhaps it was the sight of Philippi’s widened eyes, growing alarmed as she mentally re-checked what they were saying, and grew more sure of her understanding. "You know you need not worry," he said to her in falsely soothing tones. "You have the family’s regard and gratitude. If you do not heal well enough to train the tsaakas any more, it is a certainty we will grant you an easy death." "Ktas!" But he was deep in the roil of his constantly re-suppressed anger now, and Teiba’s shocked and angry voice had little effect. "What? I thought she would be glad to know there is no chance of us selling her back into her former career." He grinned knowingly, mockingly. "You do need hands and feet to train tsaakas, but none for that." Philippi’s head rocked back as if she had been punched, and two bright red patches flared on her pale cheekbones. She opened her mouth, but could not seem to find any useful words in either language. "They would not let her dwindle on for years, an embarrassment to all," Ktas snarled. "Gods, Ktas, enough!" Teiba stepped between Ktas and his target, but he did not have enough height to block the fierce eye-lock between his suddenly vicious partner and the Terran. "You think I am being cruel, Teiba? Not so. Surely the knowledge of an easy death is more comforting than the other fate?" Philippi finally found her voice. She managed to give Ktas a steely glare and say, "Of course you are right. I thank you," in tones that dripped cold defiance. But Ktas was no longer looking at her. He had met Teiba’s eyes instead, and been shocked into silence at last by the genuine outrage and disgust he saw there. Unable to trust himself to try to get back from that brink, knowing he had made yet another enormously foolish error of judgment, Ktas roughly pushed past Teiba and stormed out. Teiba felt the familiar infuriating helplessness rise again in his heart. He almost...almost gave in to the urge to fly out after his partner and beat him until he explained himself. But no. His duty was here yet a while. Looking over his shoulder, Teiba saw that Philippi was at last crying in earnest, though clearly fighting not to. He turned his back, partly out of some remnant of courtesy and partly to conquer his own reflexive distaste at her show of weakness. But as he aimlessly neatened the counter, he could hear her regaining control. Of course she needed his assistance with the wipe cloth again to be able to breathe freely afterwards. He helped her with another drink as well. As soon as she could speak more or less evenly she gave him a muffled apology. "You were provoked," Teiba admitted, and realized with a pang it was possibly deliberate. "I wish...I wish I knew what I did. To make him angry at me," Philippi said miserably. "He used to be...nice." Teiba felt the same, although he could never have brought himself to admit it to anyone, except possibly Maki. "I think he feels shame," he tried to explain, using a lesser but still truthful reason. "Neither he nor I thought to check to be sure you had the right cold weather gear for the hunt today." Philippi frowned her confusion. "Your gloves and boots were the kind that get wet. There is a better kind that does not. We did not know...that no one told you that." "Oh." As the meaning of this sunk in, Philippi looked down at her crippled, throbbing hands. At her possible death. "We did not mean for you to be hurt." Teiba’s voice was almost a whisper, thick with guilt, and the shame of having to admit to it, to her. "Just a mistake. I see it," she replied, her voice equally low and troubled. "We are starting to forget you are an alien, you see it? We think you know what anyone..." ought to "...might know." Even if that was a lie, Philippi thought, it was a pretty nice one, especially coming from Teiba. "I still have much to learn," was all she could think of to say. At least, all she could think of that she dared try to say. Teiba had nothing useful to add to the conversation either, so he fell back on the tactic of providing her with more to drink. As he put her mug back down, the empty glass Ktas had left behind tempted him. After only an instant’s mental resistance, Teiba gave in. There was so much trouble circulating now, the potential conflict over what exactly happened to most of the infirmary’s sravan seemed too small to worry over. He leaned back in the hard wooden chair, seeking non-existent comfort, and sipped broodingly at the strong alcohol. Philippi, no doubt wishing for distraction herself, broke the silence by saying, "Do those...what was it? That big thing we hunted? Do they come often?" "Ngalas," Teiba told her. "And no, I understand it is rare to see them here. They usually stay in the north, where it is colder." Philippi looked comically astonished. "Oh, there is a place where it is colder than this? Where I am not living? That is good to know." For just an instant, she reminded him of his wonderful, deftly sarcastic Maki, and Teiba laughed aloud. The one thing he utterly hated about his acquired home and family was the appalling cold of the winter season here. Though he supposed most of them would be equally horrified by the brutal desert heat of his birthplace. "It is as they say, no matter how bad the situation, worse is always possible." Philippi nodded rueful agreement. But this new topic gave him an opening to ask about something he was burning to know. "About the ngala...." He took another small drink, then continued, "Did you know it was dangerous?" She looked at him suspiciously, as though she thought he was somehow trying to trick her. "I understood that." He leaned forward, clasping his glass between both hands. "Then why did you...ride Tegu against it?" This made her look even more perplexed. "Because...I thought it wanted to eat you?" Teiba huffed out his breath, and sat back as his muscles tensed, unconscious reaction to the all too vivid memory. "Oh, it did." Odd, how during and just after the crisis he had felt fully in control of himself. But now, the more time that passed, the more rattled he felt about their close call. Imagination having time and freedom to work, he supposed, and took a large drink of his sravan. Philippi was still looking at him warily, so he ventured to try to explain his doubts. "It is only...I do not see why you would care." "I do not want to see anyone get eaten." That seemed reasonable enough to Teiba, so he nodded acceptance of her preference. "But..." she continued, obviously having trouble coming up with the words she needed, "I did not stop and think, ‘Hmm, yes, no, maybe....‘" She shrugged self-effacingly. "I just rode." Gods knew he was one to understand acting on an impulse, without considering the possible consequences. The sardonic thought quirked one corner of his lips upwards. "And Tegu obeyed you, that was almost more a surprise." "He...hmm, this is hard." She glanced towards her mug and Teiba leapt to grant her unspoken request for another drink. "When I am not riding, he thinks I... belong to him? Like one of his females, in a way, you see it?" The mental image these words produced for him was highly improper, but Teiba managed to mask that reaction and merely nod. "So...he knows me. He would...try to save me from danger, because I am his herd. And you and Ktas are there with me, so you are the herd too. In a way." That almost did make sense. Not the most flattering sense, but as he was alive partly because of the tsaaka’s self-centered world view, Teiba was not inclined to resent it. Philippi continued, "Also it is partly because Tegu thinks I am of his herd that he will follow what I say when I am his leader by riding him. Yes?" "I believe you." Even though Teiba had never known tsaakas could be capable of such loyalty, he had the evidence of his own eyes to prove it. "So...I am in your debt." She shook her head. "No. Because I would be dead, but for you brought me here. So...we are...the same?" "Ah, a life for a life. Yes, fair exchange." Not what he expected, that an Earther would know and follow that code. "I think perhaps Maki will feel in your debt, though." "Oh, no," Philippi murmured. "She cut my hair for me once, after all." For a moment Teiba wondered if this was some bizarre alien belief. Then astonished understanding struck -- she was teasing him. He was possibly even more shocked to realize that he did not actually mind it. But it would not do to let that truth show until he had had time to assess what it might mean. So he only said, "Another fair exchange, then," as evenly as he could. "I like Maki," Philippi assured him, looking as serious as someone half-drunk could. "I would do something for her every time." She blinked uncertainly at how her words had come out. "Did I say that right?" "I understood you." Moreover, he believed her, odd though that felt. "Maki approves of you as well." Thinking of Maki always made him smile, and he finished off his sravan on the flood of the warmth of his memories. "Is she coming home soon?" "Not long from now. Less than a tenday. Which is not nearly soon enough." Philippi said nothing, only looked encouraging as she leaned back in a listening posture. "I am hoping she will have some idea of...." Was this a proper topic, considering who he was speaking to? Ah, well, she was less likely than most to spread rumors and details. "...what to do about Ktas." She frowned vaguely, one eyebrow wedging a faint diagonal trace across her brow. "Something needs to be done?" "Try to find out why he is so...angry," Teiba explained. "Not ask him?" Now Teiba frowned and she instantly said, "That was foolish of me. Of course you have." "If you ask him, he says he is not angry." "Ah." She did not know the Waeseran word for ‘denial’, or even if there was one. Teiba was now just staring into his empty glass. After giving the idea some thought -- as well as she could through the muddling effects of the sravan -- she said, "I think maybe -- it started when Gior got hurt?" "No. I think before then." How many times had Teiba wondered if it was their fight about Philippi and Maki and the tsaakas, verbal but all too close to physical, that lay at the root of the problem? Thinking back on it now re-stirred his old resentment, making him cast a colder eye on the woman here before him, erasing most of their temporary accord. Except she then said, "I wish I could help," looking so sadly sincere that he could not help believing her. "But he does not like me, so I do not see how I can." Teiba was spared the need to think of a response by the arrival of Tattei and Gior. As Tattei examined Philippi’s hands again, Teiba waited with dread to hear what her pronouncement might be. They seemed to him to be growing steadily worse, the skin darkening with bruising that made them look as though they had been smashed, fingers swollen and bent into reptile-like claws. But Philippi moved them on command and responded, with a little yelp, to touch, and Tattei expressed wary hope that the damage was only skin deep to both hands and feet after all. "Since it is good and warm in here, I will have her sleep there on the waiting bed for tonight," Tattei decided. "Gior, perhaps you would move those things on it to the table and counter?" "Of course," he said, and went to work. "You are not to walk or use your hands any more than you can help, for the next few days," Tattei instructed Philippi. "The less damage to them now, the better the chance of a full healing." Being allowed to sleep as soon as possible sounded very good to Philippi, except for one thing. "Is there...a necessary near?" "Yes. Teiba, will you --" Both Teiba and Philippi made involuntary choking sounds of dismay and horror, but Tattei ignored their foolishness and continued, "-- carry her into the off-room there, and leave her where she needs to be? You can bring her back in for me when she is finished." That was within the bounds of what Teiba felt was proper. Philippi cooperated by remaining calmly aloof as he lifted her up and walked with her into the smaller room. "I think I can do everything else," she told him vaguely, and he was more than happy to take her at her word. Out in the main room, Teiba reported to Tattei that Philippi had been cooperative about the drinking, and had not shown any worrisome behaviors. Tattei just nodded and continued with what she was writing down, but Gior seemed glad to know it. Teiba considered mentioning Ktas’s contribution to the situation, but only briefly, before dropping the idea. Ktas had been in the wrong, but he was still Teiba’s bondmate. "Here are some notes," Tattei said shortly thereafter. "Can the message be sent tonight, or must it wait until tomorrow?" "I can easily send it tonight," Teiba said. "They will, of course, respond in their own governmental time." Gior laughed humorlessly at this all too true observation, and even Tattei smiled darkly. "Very good. So. Now I will get out salve and wraps for her for overnight. Teiba, you might tap the door and then bring her back out to us...." Bandaging and settling Philippi for the night did not take long. Gior solicitously piled blankets on her until Tattei crossly said he was going to make her die of heat overload instead of cold sickness. Teiba took the chance to cast a general wish for good sleep to the other three and hurried off to send Tattei’s message. *** Going through the start-up procedures and making a connection took three times as long as typing and sending the actual message. Teiba did not mind, because it gave him a chance to think what he was going to say to Ktas when he joined him in the room they shared when Maki was away. Except he could not do so. Ktas had locked the door. Teiba rattled the handle several times, and even knocked, but Ktas was either too deeply asleep to hear him, or actually ignoring the sounds Teiba was making. Furious now, Teiba stormed down the hall to his and Maki’s room. Because it was sitting unused, of course the heat vent was closed, and so the atmosphere was dank and chill. With a snarled curse, Teiba kicked the vent lever, knowing it would be dark morning before the room's air was even half-way warmed. He considered his options as he sat on the bed and removed his wrap-boots, and decided to choose the minor discomfort of sleeping in his already warm clothes over the greater one of chilly nude body freedom. After shutting off the lamp, Teiba bunched up the blankets over him in the center of the large, empty bed and stared up into the darkness. The situation had gone well past the far outer end of enough. ‘Tomorrow,’ he vowed, ‘I will find some way, some place...and Ktas and I will settle this matter. I will have an answer, even if it means blood must spill.’ Not exactly comforted, but at least feeling the satisfaction of having made a decision and chosen a path, Teiba shivered himself to a restless sleep of uneasy dreams. *** Ktas was not at firstmeal the next morning. Once, Teiba reflected sourly, the mere idea of Ktas not showing up for a meal would have produced stark disbelief in any family member you might mention it to. But these days, it seemed he preferred his bed to almost any other company. Unfortunate, because it was possible he would have enjoyed the attention at the table this morning. Everyone was eager to hear the tale of how they had killed the ngala, which today would be skinned and butchered, with as much of the carcass as possible put to at least some use, even if only as canet feed and fertilizer. Once Tattei gave her cautious opinion that the slave would -- barring infection or other unexpected problem -- eventually recover well enough to train tsaakas again, the good cheer among those present revived to almost what it would have been the night before. Teiba was urged to tell of the triumph in minute detail. He tried, all the while knowing Ktas at the height of his tale-telling powers would have made it into a heroic, yet humorous, saga, something worthy of being retold for years to come. The best he could manage was a barely satisfactory report, requiring enhancement by the tens of questions from almost every family member there. It was enough, though, to win unreserved praise for all of them, even Philippi and Tegu, praise that made Teiba wish fruitlessly that Ktas had been there to hear it. He mentally renewed his vow of the night before and decided to go track his partner down as soon as he finished his morning duties. But one of those duties, checking for computer correspondence, instigated a new crisis that forced him to put all other thoughts aside for the time being. At the very top of the queue of incoming messages was one bearing official coding from a command-policy level government department. It referenced Teiba’s letter of the night before, and demanded full and immediate disclosure of all known information concerning the Terran female being held by the s’ruessef clan, including why she was in need of significant medical treatment. It also warned that possessing a Terran slave put them in violation of the provisions of a new treaty. The family’s only hope of avoiding legal penalties lay in their full cooperation -- which was, of course, the duty of all loyal Unity citizens. Teiba said several very very crude words, then marked out the missive for printing. An excellent example of what he had said only the evening before about no situation being so bad it could not get worse. The family had half-expected an inquiry like this in the first month or two after Philippi’s arrival, and it had seemed a sort of evidence against her when no word of a search for a missing person matching her description was ever sent out in the official news lines. Teiba particularly remembered Maki being upset after her attempt to learn more of the Terran’s past. Philippi’s memories of the ways by which she had come to be held by the family were vague, but dark; dark enough that she had preferred to remain a slave if it also meant she would remain unnoticed. He shook his head. There was no way this could go well. A short time later, Teiba was in Klosec’s workroom, keeping respectfully still as the family’s Eldest read the printed message. One minor bright point in his personal situation at the moment was knowing Klosec’s age-won wisdom had taught him that difficult situations were seldom made better by lashing out at the one who brought negative information to the leader’s attention. "We need to call a family council meeting immediately," Klosec said. "I will want you there as well." Teiba did not yet have enough time in with the family to become a council member, but by now that was only a technicality. There was always some issue scheduled for discussion that required his expert opinion in computer lore, which meant he was always asked to attend. "If you would go summon those working outdoors, I can start bringing together the rest." In a surprisingly short time, council was convened. Klosec read out the letter, then allowed the dismayed reaction to begin. "Typical luck," Enris complained. "We bought those new tsaakas at the trademeet because we expected she would be able to train them. So now that will be a loss." "Not totally," Gior argued, bristling at the implied criticism of his decision. "The new two-years are already able to be saddled. We will get a small profit on them." "Will it be enough to pay these fines we may owe?" Enris retorted. "If they changed the laws after we acquired her, I do not think we will be fined," Felinde stated firmly. Teiba cleared his throat and Klosec waved a hand towards him, indicating people should listen. "When Maki was here in the summer, she tried to gain the... Philippi’s confidence, learn her story. If I am remembering correctly, she was not eager to return to her people, for fear of...I am not sure what to call it. Reprisal? Another attempt to silence her? But her fear of being taken back might work in our favor." More talk buzzed around this revelation. In general it seemed to be taken as a thin possibility to build any hopes on. "Still, even if she is permitted to stay, it would be as a worker, being paid," Zeraln observed morosely. "Gior told us all about how a dealer noticed her at the trademeet and wanted her. Sooner or later, someone will make her a better offer and hire her away from us." "What other possibility is there, though?" "At least if she stays until next trademeet, we sell the two years we have on the land now. That will be some profit...." "Never a guarantee of tomorrow." Gior had been thinking hard, eyes fixed on Teiba, the second most recent stranger to come to the family. "Suppose," he blurted out, "suppose we could evade the little problem of the changed slave law, but bind her to us legally another way?" "How?" "What if she becomes a member of the family...by marriage?" Gior’s proposal was met with stunned silence -- but only for a moment. Then a torrent of dissent and disbelief was released. Long a veteran of these councils, Gior simply crossed his arms and waited, disdainful of the commotion, until Klosec demanded order and began calling in turn on those who wished to protest or argue. "A slave?! You want our family to take someone like that as a member?" "It is looking as though she might not have been one, legally. That would make it a different matter, yes?" "She is still an alien." "That I do not dispute." "It would...be a legal bond not easily severed," Felinde observed. As she was in charge of legal matters, her opinions carried weight. "We might need that much leverage for her to be allowed to stay at all." "As I see it, we have to decide what we most want," Gior said, with a grateful smile to his wife for strengthening his argument. "I think it is best, for her and for us, if she stays. If marriage is the only way to manage that, what harm?" "Except to our family honor, you mean?" "We of course do not know her family," Gior said. "But she herself has honor, even though she is an alien." He ignored the scoffing sounds and went on. "When I gave her work, she turned to it without holding back -- which is why we value her and want her to stay! Slaves do as little as they dare and still avoid punishment. That is not what we have seen from her." "She is mannerly...and not a coward," Tattei said unwillingly, into the uneasy silence. "I am still not sure this is wise -- but I will agree her character seems acceptable. Considering what she is." "No, not a coward," Teiba concurred. There was no need to explain why he thought so, and the council members began to eye each other, trying to guess at others’ opinions. "Very well, supposing we wished to consider this idea...who is to be married to her?" Thamrea asked. "We have how many in the line waiting to take a wife?" Klosec asked. "Lannasel?" "Twelve. But I cannot imagine most of them not wanting a real wife, to have children with." Lannasel frowned questioningly at Tattei. "Can she bear a child to a Waeseran man? Did we ever find out for sure?" "No. That is information we would need to get." "One of our older men, then, who have already had their children?" Ordan in particular looked thoughtful at Gior‘s suggestion. "Or...someone who does not care about that? Perhaps...if it was in name only? Perhaps...Ktas?" At this, all eyes turned to Teiba, who managed to hide his instant outrage and merely look dubious. "I --" "That might answer more than one problem. An easy service he can do for the family could help regain his...interest." Klosec nodded, struck by the possibilities. Making up his own mind in favor of the experiment, he called a vote. "We need much more information before we commit to this idea of a marriage between the Earther and one of our own. But for now, let us decide whether or not to see how the...affected parties feel, and if the plan can work for us. Shall we proceed that far?" Gior raised a hand to signal yes, and slowly, nearly all the others present joined in. Klosec, as Eldest, did not vote except to break a tie. Teiba was thankful he was not a voting member, and thus need not reveal his reluctance to share his partner, no matter how unsatisfactory that partner might currently be. "Very good," Klosec said. "Meeting is closed, for now. I need to speak with Tattei, Gior, and Teiba about how we will proceed." As the other council members rose from the table and filed out, little bursts of animated conversation floated along with them. The three Klosec had singled out drew up to him. "We need to get the required information sent as quickly as possible, that is priority," Klosec said. "Gior, she trusts you most, so you should do the asking. Tattei, you can give Teiba more medical details, and of course Teiba is to send the report." "Perhaps they can take a moment to help me move her? She is not ill now, and I would prefer to have the space in my infirmary back." Tattei did not add she would also feel far more comfortable without an alien lodging in her domain. "Yes, that should not take much extra time," Klosec said, no more willing than anyone else to cross Tattei if it was not absolutely necessary. "While you are moving her, I can write up a brief report for you to send," Tattei offered. That eliminated the question of wasted time, and they proceeded to the infirmary in due accord. Philippi greeted Gior with muted enthusiasm, wary of annoying Tattei with inappropriate noise or excitement. She was not at all averse to being returned to her own room, being no more comfortable around the older Waeseran woman than Tattei was with her. Teiba did the honors of carrying her up the stairs. Gior was pressed into duty as well, bringing along a venerable sickroom chair that held a removable pot, since Philippi was not even to walk within her room, much less all the way down the hall to the shower area. Getting her settled took only moments. Then Gior sat down on the edge of the bed, as Teiba took up a spot at the footboard. His stiff posture, and Gior’s odd inability to begin speaking instantly, told Philippi something was not right. "We have heard some news today," he finally said. "It seems there is a new treaty with the One...with your people. And so also, a new law, that Terrans may not be held as slaves." Philippi was not sure what the politic response to this should be, so she just nodded. As she expected, that was all that was needed to encourage Gior to continue. "How we learned this, well, that is possibly a problem." He cleared his throat, and Philippi felt hers tighten. "Tattei needed to know more about how to be sure to give you proper care, you see it?" She glanced towards Teiba now, who looked completely unemotional. What else but bad news would make him need that much facial control? "We sent a message on the computer, asking for medical information about Terrans and...it made them query back to ask why we needed it." "Oh, no," Philippi whispered, her body freezing as that wisp of breath escaped and the full horror of what this meant sank in. "They want to know who is here, why, how they are hurt...." She began to tremble uncontrollably, but managed to say, "Do you have to answer?" "Yes. The law compels," Gior said, his regret plain. He reached out and awkwardly patted her forearm. "But do not despair. We have a plan." Philippi could barely focus on what he was saying, she was so terrified. Stripping away the illusion of being safely lost forever brought her fear of what had happened, and what could happen again, thundering back full force. "What?" she managed to say. "We want to keep you with us...is that what you also want?" "Yes! Yes, I want to stay! Can you tell them that?" "Here is the idea I thought of, and told the council." Gior began to hastily explain, hoping to calm her before the panic he could see building in her broke free. "Those who are asking will only know what we tell them, yes? So we can say you...found someone here you formed an attachment to, and it was decided you could marry into our family." "I...what? Could what?" "Marry. Like Felinde and I? Like Teiba and Maki?" She just stared at him, mouth agape. "Not exactly like, of course. Just a legality. To make it that you belong here, in our family." "Oh." Somehow it seemed much too easy a solution. There had to be vast tangles of background, of tradition and history, that she was completely ignorant of, a dozen dozen thickets where she could lose her way, be helplessly trapped forever. And yet, if being taken back into Terran government custody was an automatic death sentence, or worse, the living death she had already suffered once...wouldn’t anything be better than that? "We do not know enough yet to know what we will have to do," Gior reassured her. "But we will try hard to keep you here, believe it." "I thank you," she murmured faintly. "So now, you must tell Teiba your name, and whatever else you think your people will wish to know about you." Teiba had borrowed a pad of paper and a noter from Tattei’s records area, and now he brought them briskly out, standing ready to take down whatever she said. "Uh...should I...tell you the letters?" Teiba blinked, surprised to find he had again forgotten her alien status, and the difficulty this would present in collecting her data. He and Gior exchanged dubious glances. "Just say it slowly," he finally decided. "I will write the sounds, and someone on their end can try to decide what they mean." "Confusion there could help us here," Gior noted, looking cheered at the idea. So she carefully enunciated the syllables of her name and former home. Teiba wrote it down as best he could, then took his leave. He had intended to knock on Ktas’s door in passing and, if he was awake, warn him he was coming up to talk with him just as soon as he finished the task Klosec had assigned him. But this plan was spoiled by Klosec himself. The family Eldest was already there at Ktas’s door, rapping out an insistent demand for admittance. So Teiba only said, "On my way to send the message," and passed hurriedly by. *** Ktas yanked the door open as Klosec started his fourth salvo. His look of fury changed with comic speed to startled confusion, and he backed up a pace, saying, "Come in, Eldest. I thought --" He broke off. Klosec walked in, observing his younger kinsman with disapproval. Ktas’s clothes gave every sign of having been slept in, and he looked haggard. He had not shaved in several days, or neatened his beard in longer than that. In fact, Klosec could not be absolutely sure he had even combed his unruly hair recently. "Are you ill?" Klosec asked, in order to give Ktas the benefit of the doubt one last time. "Perhaps some effects from yesterday?" "No, not ill. Just...a little tired." His night had been full of waking from dreams, shouting aloud and worse. Those he did not wish to discuss, and so he did not mention them. "I need to talk with you. Would you prefer here and now, or my office?" "If you do not mind, just a little later would be better. I need to go down the hall." Ktas tried for his old persuasive smile, not realizing how strained and false it looked. "Go," Klosec advised. "Wash up and eat, as well, if you wish. Shall we see each other in, say, half a sakke?" Both men knew Ktas had little choice but to agree. Klosec took his leave, and they walked silently beside one another in the hall until parting ways at the head of the wide stone staircase. Ktas tapped on the doorframe of Klosec’s office a few shortunits after the agreed upon time, which did not surprise Klosec in the slightest. At least he was now wearing fresh clothing, and his hair was damply slicked back on his head. He had clearly been anticipating that this was not to be a cheery exchange of pleasantries and praise, though, because his expression was decidedly sullen. Klosec pretended not to notice. After letting Ktas stand awkwardly for a few moments, he nodded permission for him to have a seat. "I have been reviewing the notices about open positions at the places our clan has worker contracts with." It was satisfying to watch those words sink in, watch Ktas struggle to disguise his instant reaction of dismay. ‘So you do still care somewhat, about something,’ Klosec thought. ‘A starting point, then.’ Aloud, he read off the sites, "Glass works, the cannery at Rivershead...ah, the shipyard needs guards...." "Eldest, I..." Ktas swallowed and started again. "I had not heard we were in difficulties, and needed more worker income." "That is not the reason I am considering this change," Klosec said, as dispassionately as if discussing how many chairs had been counted during an inventory. "It has become increasingly clear that you are no longer happy here at home. I thought you might prefer something different." Ktas had unconsciously clenched his hands in his lap. "With all respect, Uncle, actually I would not." He tried for a joke, "And surely any employers we deal with would also prefer not to have me, at least as soon as they found out my...limitations." Klosec’s eyes narrowed at Ktas’s clumsy attempt to make an excuse of his genuine, but minor, physical problems. But all he said was, "Even though home life is making you unhappy?" "I beg forgiveness, I did not realize there was a new rule," Ktas retorted, with a smile that did not come close to reaching his eyes. "If the family requires it, I will of course be happy without ceasing." "We do wish you to be happy," Klosec rebuked him, almost gently. He shuffled his papers while staring at Ktas, seeking some hint of how to reach him, say the right words, find the right path to set him on. "Very well, if a new job and change of location is not what you wish, perhaps a new task here?" Ktas could recognize an either/or offer when one was presented. "I do wish to be of service to the family as I can," he replied dutifully. "Good, because there is something you, possibly only you, can do." Klosec explained the new crisis concerning Philippi. "If you are willing to marry her -- in name only, if you prefer -- and help convince any who come to investigate that it is a serious pairing, that would be a great help." Stunned into silence, Ktas fought to come up with something, anything, to say that would pull him out of this wholly unexpected trap. "Why me?" was all he could manage to squeak out. "Because the story must make sense to the government investigators. Who else has spent even a minimal amount of time with her that is not already married?" Ktas did not look convinced. "Also, the council is rightly concerned that half-alien children would not be proper additions to the family. So no one waiting his turn to take a wife is likely to consent, if he also wants children." Ktas had never particularly desired to breed, never even considered the idea of taking any other mate than Teiba. But the idea of the council blithely writing off his right to do so infuriated him. The urge to tell Klosec exactly what he thought of this plan boiled up in him...and out of long painful practice, he forced it down and sealed it off. "If this is what the family wishes," he finally managed to say, "I will do what is needed." Willing an appearance of continued calm, he stood up. "Am I needed further at the moment, Eldest?" "No, you may go. I will keep you informed, as we learn more and the situation develops." Ktas nodded deeply, formally, and stalked out. Fearing the meeting had not gone as well as it had seemed to on the surface, Klosec watched him go, wondering if he had put his nephew back on the path...or pushed him off at last. *** In her room, sitting up against a pile of pillows, Philippi stared out the window at the pewter sky behind the dull blue-gray stone tiles of the barn roof, feeling chilled despite the pile of blankets she huddled under. The idea that she had been discovered, that the persons unknown who had snatched her out of her normal life might now know where to find her and repeat their crime, made her want to run screaming. But she knew quite well that those were two things she must not actually do, or her bad situation would swiftly become even worse. Even if she could somehow sneak out to the barn, saddle Tegu and ride, where would she go? The empty wilderness, so she could get cold again and this time die? What would happen to Tegu then? Going was hopeless, but wasn’t staying almost as bad? If her faceless pursuers even let her stay, if they were fooled by a plan that now seemed more ridiculous by the hour. She was pretty sure Gior had said it would not be an actual marriage, whatever that might mean here. But how could he say for sure? She believed he meant it sincerely, but she would not be marrying Gior.... Philippi shuddered and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to block off the tears threatening yet again. How long, how often, could a person cry before their body just got sick of the whole process and quit producing tears? ‘Maybe I should just go ahead and go back, if that’s what they want,’ she thought. It could be possible that it had all been a terrible mistake. Maybe official representatives would apologize, take her home, and set everything right. Not that the idea of going back home, back to another depressingly boring job, was especially cheering. At least now if they did take her away from the clan, she knew what to do should she be dumped into the sordid Waeseran underworld as before. She only needed to act insane, and someone would promptly kill her. Unless...she was drugged again, too impaired to remember that fact. But surely they would not try the same thing twice? Surely this time they would want to make sure of her silence, and just -- Her circling thoughts scattered like a flock of startled birds as Ktas walked into her room without so much as a courteous tap at the door for warning. He took the time to press the door shut quietly, maybe from habit, maybe so as not to attract any attention. His hair was wet, sleeked back, and it made him look different. Dangerous. Or maybe it was not just his hair, but the way it augmented his expression. He was smiling, but his lips were pressed together in a thin line, and his eyes were glinting with something that did not look like humor. Falling back on well-honed habit, where control of a fractious mount depended on not letting them sense the slightest fear, Philippi managed to maintain what she hoped was a calm exterior as Ktas approached. He dropped to a seat on the edge of her bed, intrusively casual. Beneath the blankets, she slipped her right hand away from him, across her stomach, so his knee would not bump it. Draped over her body that way, it felt deceptively like some sort of protection. "My congratulations. I hear we are to marry," he said, the lightness of his words belied by the growl echoing beneath them. This revelation startled her out of her pretended serenity. Gior had not said this was the plan! "I thought...it was only an idea." His laugh was harsh, cruel, and in that instant she made up her mind to flee this situation, no matter what that meant she was fleeing to. "We were only thinking about it?" "I thought you would consent to anything, to keep from going back to your people." "No. Not anything." Philippi was attempting the calmness trick again, despite being almost certain it was a losing battle. "Do not imagine you can bargain for better," Ktas snarled bitterly. "The family wants to keep you, yes, but they will not throw away someone with prospects on you." He looked her over, as if assessing her physically and finding her lacking. "Perhaps you could get one of the older men. Ordan has not had a wife for twenty years, and might not mind the taste of alien flesh." A wave of nausea at the mere hint of enforced marital intimacy made her tremble. "Stop," she said, hating him, trying not to cry and fearing she would fail any second now. "If you do not want to marry with me, then do not. Go away!" "Oh, what I want is not at all important," Ktas informed her from between gritted teeth, while still somehow maintaining that ghastly false smile. "Do not trouble yourself." "Do not trouble your self!" she snapped back, wishing she dared to slap him. "I do not want to be married at all! I would rather go!" His look of polite surprise might have seemed comical any other time. "Go? Go and die?" "Yes." There were worse things than death, as he had so helpfully pointed out last night. The mocking expression abruptly disappeared, leaving his face almost blank, except for those burning eyes. "You did not kill yourself when you were a whore, or a slave...but you prefer death to being matched with me." Ktas said this so quietly that she wasn’t sure she had understood him at first. Again her trainer’s instinct kicked in, altering the urge she felt to strike out, hurt him as she had been hurt. And whipping a larger, stronger creature was always risky, besides. "Not because it is you. Not that." His long fingers were taut on his knees, as though he were fighting not to let his hands loose on her. "Because you hate the thought." Ktas opened his mouth, then shut it without a sound, and she suddenly noticed how...how drained he looked, beneath the surface anger. "I think it would be like death to you," she finished, in a low tone laced with sorrow. The words surprised her as she heard them come from her mouth. Where had that idea come from? And why did it seem so true? Ktas’s eyes widened. Fearing to reveal too much, he yanked his gaze away from her face to stare at the stone floor. After a long silence he finally looked back at her again. "If I do not agree to marry you, I am to be sent away, to work elsewhere." Philippi gasped. How could they? And how could she? How could she let someone be blackmailed into a commitment that revolted him, just to keep her here and safe? Her reaction surprised Ktas. He made a rueful grimace, almost the start of a real smile. By some miracle he had not managed to make her a true enemy yet. Because if she was such, she would surely be glad to see him cast out and shamed forever. "It seems we are each a trap for the other," he said, almost apologetically. ‘Whatever that means,’ Philippi thought. She was so tired of never being sure she understood the simplest phrase. Staying now seemed awful, going into the unknown just as bad. "I do not know what to do," she heard herself say. "Dammit," she added, as the pathetic, stupid, useless tears started up again. She raised her mitten-covered hand to try her old trick of squeezing the bridge of her nose, which sent a stab of warning pain through it. "Ow, dammit!" But the pain helped turn back the flood. She threw herself back against her pillows and wiped her eyes very carefully with the back of the mitten, then just stared at Ktas dolefully. "Can’t win for losing," she said to him, in Standard. Let him wonder, for a change. He cocked his head in what had once been a familiar, even endearing, mannerism. Hadn’t he joked to her once that he did it because his ‘thinks’ were better on one side of his brain than the other? Hadn’t she laughed? ‘Simpler times,’ she thought wistfully, and sighed with a little quirk of her lips at the idiocy of being nostalgic for her relative ignorance back then. The tiny, sad smile touched Ktas. She was clearly not behind this plot against him, or his other troubles either. In fact, she was a victim as well, and in danger in her own right. Perhaps the sensible thing for the moment was to declare truce, and join forces to find the way out together. He half-expected this thought to be followed by a flare of his ever-present anger. When it did not come, the sense of relief was as welcome as a cool breeze at the end of a burning summer’s day. ‘I can do this thing,’ he thought. ‘Find the answer, make it work for me, get out of this tangle.’ Aloud, he asked, "What would you do, if you could choose freely?" "About what?" "Everything." Ktas found he was actually slightly curious to know what she would say. Philippi wriggled back into her propping pillows with a thinking sort of frown. After a bit, she hesitantly began. "When I was little, I wanted to have horses...you know, our animal that is like tsaakas?" He nodded. "Lots of them, and a big place to keep them and ride them. A big house, too, so all the friends I had could come to visit me." She smiled as though she was trying to laugh at her youthful foolishness. "All those friends I was going to have some day." It seemed both a grandiose and a rather thin life goal to Ktas, yet he could see it had meant something to her, and that she felt shame she had not been able to achieve it. He had no words for this, but she continued, so it did not matter. "So. Being here is not what I dreamed -- that would have been a strange thing to dream, I think." She was trying to make him laugh now, so he smiled dutifully. "It is a little like it, though, and more like it than...my little rooms where I lived. Alone. My stupid job I did not like at all. My fourth part of a horse that I spent all my money on visiting...." She shook her head hard, both a denial and a way to come back to the now, hard enough to make her dawn-cloud hair whip her cheeks. "It is better to have some, if you cannot have all, yes?" What was probably just a phrase to her, a summing up, struck Ktas with an almost physical shock. It was as if she was chiding him for mourning all he had lost. No one had the right to do that! He almost let the rage boil up again. But somehow, something made him pass it by, to think on what was behind it. That...she was right? She was right. Some was better than none. "Yes," he said, making the admission aloud. "Some is not so good as all, but far better than none." Ever since the injuries, he had known he would now never fulfill his boyhood dreams of glory, or even the adult versions of them. Fighting to make that fact not true had only brought him misery, him and all around him. Perhaps to call truce there as well was the answer to finding some small portion of peace and comfort again. "So," Philippi continued, caught up in her own inner measurings and seeing no hint of Ktas’s struggles, "I think that means...if nothing changed too much...I would rather live here, and train the tsaakas. Even if it turns out I could go home safely, that is still what I would want instead." If nothing changed too much. Ktas was fairly sure now that she truly did not wish to marry; not him, not anyone. He almost laughed. Klosec had surely not known what a crucial task he was imposing on his least competent nephew. Making this marriage the family was so set upon happen would take all his skill to bring about. "Here is a thought," Ktas said. "Perhaps we could only say we are agreed to marry. Promised to each other?" Just engaged, she supposed he meant. "How would that help?" "To those who come to question, it is as good an argument for you to stay as actual marriage would be. You and I can make them believe it, I am sure." Philippi did not look anywhere close to sure. "If it is enough for them to let you stay, we can wait until it is all forgotten, then say we rethought the matter." A more somber idea struck him. "If it is not enough, then I do not know whether the genuine legal joining would be enough either. None of us know what is truly likely to happen." "No, we do not, do we?" Philippi shivered. "Would that really be...would that happen? That I could say no later? Would the family blame you and still send you away?" "Another thing I do not know," Ktas replied, and he had no need to try to simulate his unhappiness with the truth of that statement. "About me, I mean. Yes, you would be free to break off from your pledge. I am sure no one would blame you." This last sounded so bitter that she winced, sorry she even brought it up. "I suppose...if you do not mind only saying we will marry...I will try Gior’s plan." "I am willing to lie in such a good cause," he assured her. She actually laughed, and there it was. Success. Victory. ‘Might as well make it as certain as possible,’ Ktas thought. So he put out a hand, and laid just the tips of his fingers over her arm, well above her wrist, out of deference to her injuries. "I, Ktaserat s’ruessef, say it; that at need, I will tell anyone I have promised to marry you. But you need not feel bound by my words, and you need not marry unless you wish it." "I --" Philippi looked from his hand there on her arm to his face, then back again, at a total loss for words. Ktas was darkly amused to see his simple swearing of intent had awed her past the ability to speak. "It is only a way of ours, to show I mean what I say," he explained, and she relaxed a little. "Should I say something too?" she asked, a little shyly. "If you wish it. Why not?" She gave a moment’s thought, teeth lightly holding her lower lip, and then she put her mittened hand over his. "I will try to help you not get in more trouble with your family. But you need not marry me either." Her stated intention to help him in his struggle touched him more deeply than he would have believed possible, despite the likelihood that it was a futile wish. "I thank you," he managed to mutter, and she rubbed his hand very gently with her own before pulling it back to rest with its mate. ‘What now?’ Ktas thought. Somehow it did not seem proper for him to immediately wander away after exchanging such serious words, even over a false promise to marry. To do so might also give her the idea he had only been being courteous to manipulate her...although that was exactly what he had been doing...had he not? It reminded him again of why he had always been so impatient with the element of the military that seemed to live for intrigues intended to help them gain advancement. It was too much trouble to remember pretended roles and scripted schemes. But in this situation, which he had been thrust into by others, he had little choice. All he could do was try his best to follow both the directions from his elders and his own best instincts, and hope the two stayed more or less on the same path. At least it was something new to think about, something new to do. Something that was actually going to be a help to the family, with a little luck. The unexpected break in his usual dark thoughts also made him want to stay and talk a while longer. Ktas rose to his feet, but only to adjust the position of the visitor’s chair and sit down near by. "When I was sick," he explained, "I hated it when those who came to see me sat on my bed. It makes the mattress crooked, and tips you. Not restful." Philippi nodded, either agreement or to encourage him to continue. Ktas supposed she would be glad of a little distraction as well. "Have you been told that story? No?" He leaned back in the chair a little, crossing his ankles on the floor and lacing his fingers behind his neck. "It happened when I was in Starservice...." As he mentally composed his tale, it occurred to him that he had actually related the story to very few people. The family had learned it from the medical records sent home with him, and spread it fully from one to another all on their own. Teiba and Maki had been willing to listen to details now and then, during his long, slow healing. Teiba alone knew almost all of the deeper reality of it. "We were finding things out about a new planet," he said. "I was given charge over a team of...do you know the word ‘science’?" Philippi shook her head. "I need many more words." "Science is...about how things work. Living things, what things are made of, stars, machines...do you see?" "I think so. Medicine is a kind of part of it, yes? And they try out ideas and write what happens?" "Yes, you see it. Good." He mentally tracked back to what he had been saying. "So. We go down to the surface. They are doing their work and I am...watching them. It was all grass there, except for a few trees standing alone." He still saw them in dreams, growing where they had no reason to, waiting to trap him again. "Then men began shouting, so I ran to see." His mind tried to do as it had done so many times before, freeze the moment and find a different path to a different outcome. "Two were down, under the biggest tree. I went after them, pulled them out...but they died anyway." "What was it?" she asked in a horror-filled whisper. "The trees made, or were made of, something that burned. If something walked beneath, that made the stuff fall." He studied the backs of his hands, and was glad to see not a hint of tremor. "Most of it had already fallen by the time I got there, so I did not die. But I breathed it. And it burned my eyes blind." With a sharp intake of breath, Philippi put a hand to her mouth. The mitten made her look like a child playing a peeking game. "I was too injured to stay on duty, so they ended my service and sent me home. As you can see, I did heal. Mostly." He tried to smile. "Once I was strong enough, the government sent me to a hospital...a medicine place," he added, at her frown of incomprehension. "They were able to fix my eyes so I could see again. Not as far, or as well as I once could -- but as you say, some is much better than none." He did not feel like giving details of the crucial part of that time, how Teiba had thrown over everything he had worked for all his life in order to come to his aid. Fought to be allowed to discard the career that was his only hope, merely for the chance of pulling Ktas out of the black despair that was killing him more surely than the trees’ poison. Remembering that made him swallow hard against a rush of shame. ‘I am ungrateful and a traitor,’ he castigated himself. ‘Teiba gave his all for me, and I have repaid him with as much ugliness as I dare.’ Somehow that recollection made earning his right to stay here with the family seem more endurable. Only if he stayed did he have a hope of somehow winning through his current darkness and making things right with Teiba again. "I am glad you did not die," Philippi said, after waiting to see if he was finished with his telling. Her voice recalled him to the present moment. "I also," he said. ‘Most times,’ he added to himself. "But I wish at least one of the others had lived as well. Since they did not, I ruined myself for nothing." Philippi looked at him with an expression he could not decipher. "Perhaps I do not understand...but...it was your...your job, to be watching in care for them?" "Yes, something like that. I was a Second...a kind of leader, under other older ones?" "Like Tegu over his herd, in a way." Supposing it was her ultimate compliment to compare him to her much-loved tsaaka, he nodded with a twisted smile. "If so, then...you had to go." Ktas raised both eyebrows at the concept of her presuming to instruct him on military duty. "If you had not, well, you would not have been hurt in your body, but...what would you have thought of yourself, after?" Startled into an honest answer, he hesitated only an instant. "That I was a coward." "Not brave, that means? Afraid?" "Yes." "So, you see it. You got hurt very much. But you know you are brave, and you lived." She seemed to realize she was stepping well over the bounds of what was permissible for casual talk. "So...that is something." "Yes," he answered, only half attending, because his mind had caught up this new idea. He would have thought he had already imagined all the possibilities of that fateful turning point, many times over. What if he had been further away -- or closer? What if one of the men who died had not been as deep in the fatal zone, had almost made it out so that Ktas could pull him clear but take no harm? What if someone had stopped him, long enough for him to remember to pause and evaluate, as he surely ought to have done? But somehow he had never considered what would have come after, had he made the decision to stand back and let two of his command die as he watched and wondered what to do. Perhaps because merely thinking that, here and now, made his stomach clench. It was actually worse to contemplate than what had really happened. Because truly, he would have wondered, ever after, if quicker action might have saved those men. Would have blamed himself for hanging back. Would have suspected his fellow junior officers now held him in contempt. And oh gods, what Teiba would have thought! They could never have reconciled. The idea was impossible. Ktas fought down a shudder and thrust the image of Teiba’s disgust out of his mind’s eye as hard as he could. Mentally returning to his current surroundings, he realized Philippi had noticed his temporary absence. "Perhaps...we should talk of something else?" she suggested, sounding a little worried. "Perhaps," he said, and sat up straighter in the chair, trying to look alert and normal. "You can tell me how you are today." "Better," she replied instantly. "Tattei put salve on me, and I have to wear these foolish things, because I am not supposed to use my hands. Or walk. But Tattei said I will get better." "Tattei knows," Ktas assured her. "She has been our healer for...many, many years. Plus, she would not say you will get better unless it was true." At least, not if she felt that her determination could make it true. "It might take some time," Philippi went on, frowning at her hands. "Maybe a long time. That will not be good for the young tsaakas I have been working with." She sighed. "I hate to have to be patient." "All there is to be," Ktas said, fully in sympathy with her for the moment. "But truly, is the break in schooling for the tsaakas what troubles you most just now?" "Except for maybe being taken away, yes." She looked out the window towards the barn, but cut her eyes back towards him for an instant, as if to judge how he was reacting to her explanation. "It is my job...but it is also what I like to do best. It is...hard, to not be allowed." "It is good to have work that you also care about," he said, then recognized a new chance to sound her out. "I only wonder...you would really rather stay and train tsaakas than go home?" "Do you think that is bad of me?" She almost sounded as though she cared about his opinion of her. "It would be good if I could safely send a message to my mother, that I am...okay." She used the Standard word, and it made him smile. That was one of the difficult ones, with what seemed like tens of different meanings. "But there is nothing waiting for me there that I really want." "Nothing and no one?" "Mmm." Philippi studied his face. "You will laugh." "Not I, never," he promised lightly, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Who would you go back to?" "My horse. My fourth part of a horse." He should have guessed it would be an animal instead of a lover. "But she does have others to take care of her. She liked me but...." Philippi gave a sad kind of laugh. "Perhaps I was like a job to her." So peculiar, how she liked to think animals had the same kinds of feelings people did. Ktas wondered briefly if all Terrans thought this, or only her. "You would not go back for your family?" "My family...our families are so different from what yours is here, I do not know if you would even think the word means the same thing," she said, with more than a hint of regret. "I was raised mostly by my mother, just the two of us alone. I saw my father sometimes, and sometimes made visits to...aunts and uncles, or...the parents of my parents. But families do not live all together like here...." She made a funny little gesture he was not sure how to interpret. "So...they will be glad if I am not dead, but they will not miss not seeing me, because that is how it always was, even when I was still there." That would be good news to the family, but it made him feel uncomfortable. Sorry for her, in fact. "There must be other things you would miss," he found himself arguing. "Your kind of food, or...things you did with...." wait, she had said something about not having friends "...things you did for fun." "But that was the trouble," Philippi said. "What I did for fun was travel to the place where my horse was kept, on the two days a week I did not have to go to work. That was expensive, so I did not spend my money on other things." "I do not think I understand." "Because...it makes no sense. I see that now." She stared at her mittened hands, the picture of dissatisfaction. "I was only...letting my life go along. Doing a boring job that I did not like, to make enough money to keep on with the same things over and over. Because things were not really good, but they were good enough." It sounded frighteningly like his own life had become. "You did not ever wish for change?" "Yes, often. But...that would have been hard, and I had no reason to. No one cared what I did." The self-accusation on her face looked all too familiar to Ktas. He saw it in the mirror quite frequently. "Not even me, perhaps." She sighed. "So. I got used to it. Stupid, yes?" "No. That is an easy trap to get into and a hard one to get out of, I think." ‘You think? You know,’ he sneered at himself. "I would tell myself I should try something different, or...talk to someone, or...or anything. Anything would have been better than nothing." She smiled to hear the phrase come around again. "But I just went on the same...." "Until...when the thing happened." "Yes." Philippi looked out the window again, where the weak winter sun was starting to make headway against the cloud cover. "Strange to think that maybe whatever happened to me back then might have turned out to be a good thing." A strange thought indeed. But before he could respond, someone knocked on Philippi’s door. Ktas rose to his feet and went to answer, only to meet young Amonde coming in, bearing a tray of food. "Oh, Ktas! I did not know someone else would be in here," she said, sounding relieved. "Yes, I am here giving Philippi a little company," he said. "Thank you for bringing the meal, and thank Ordan as well." Philippi waved her mitten from the bed. Flustered, Amonde made a half-wave back, risked one deeply curious appraisal of Ktas, and skittered from the room. "I wonder if she thinks she broke in on an assignation," Ktas said, amused, as he returned and placed the bedtray over her thighs. "A what?" Philippi asked as he sat down again. "A...meeting between adults. A quiet meeting alone?" He indicated what he meant by pretending to stroke her leg, safe as it was under the blankets. She blushed. "I suppose it might be...what people would think." "People that age, certainly," he agreed. Letting the matter drop, he removed the cover from her dish of soup and arranged the straws for it and for her drink, which was also in a covered mug to help prevent spillage in transit. "I hate to eat in front of you," Philippi said, instead of starting right in. "Why? If you spill, it is understandable." "Not because I do not want you to see," she explained. "Because you have nothing to eat." "Oh, no matter. I ate shortly before coming up here," Ktas assured her. "You eat now, and I will take the tray back. There will still be food being served by then, I am sure." She took him at his word and began to drink her meal. Ktas felt actual sympathy for her, remembering exactly how annoying it was to have to choose between food you could manage yourself, through a straw, or getting more solid fare that had to be hand-fed to you by another. "I like that soup," he remarked, just to have something to say. "It is made from little creatures called biccas. They are related to spiny-shells, but they are smaller, and live in the shallow part of the river." "Ah," was all she said, after a pause to swallow. "Is it boring to you, being told these little bits of things all the time?" Philippi shook her head instantly. "Oh, no, not at all. I need to learn things like this," she explained, looking earnest. "I know so little that I feel very stupid sometimes." "You should not, you learn very fast," Ktas told her. Satisfied that he was not being pedantic, he continued. "Now, these biccas. It is a favorite job of the children to go and catch them, with nets or little bits of bait on a string, during the warm season. They carry them back in buckets, and we keep them in bigger tubs for a few days, feeding them on a little ground up grain. That cleans them up so they taste better." An early memory of being allowed that task came to him, so clearly that he could almost feel the humid heat of the day, hear the laughter of his older cousins. He remembered how important he had thought himself, to be helping as part of a team with the older boys. Those had been good times, and he had not known it. Philippi had started to look a little dubious about her meal, but she took another sip and seemed to make up her mind. "It must work, because they do taste good." Ktas rambled on about whatever minor set of facts came to his mind as she finished the soup. When she was done, he took the tray again. "I will return this to the kitchen, then go to eat. When I am done, I will come back again...if you wish?" "I do wish, if it is not taking you away from something more important." Ktas suppressed a bitter laugh. "No, I have no important assignments just now." Except her. "I will come back as soon as may be." When he got to the dining hall, the midday meal was well underway. Without speaking, Ktas found an empty seat. Once he would have looked for Teiba, knowing there would be a place saved for him next to his partner, but that practice was not always followed lately. A quick glance up and down the long table told him Teiba was either not yet present, or had come and gone already. Mentally shrugging, Ktas helped himself to the dishes closest to him. Barrin, sitting across the way, passed him the meat tray, and Ktas nodded thanks. He did not speak, though, and of course no one spoke to him. But he barely noticed it today, as his mind was busy considering this new challenge of successfully wooing Philippi into at least a legal approximation of marriage. Ktas naturally noticed when Teiba came in, taking a chair someone else had just vacated, a few seats down from him on the opposite side. Teiba gave a brief upward jerk of his chin, and Ktas nodded back, warily pleased to not be ignored. But when Teiba spoke, it was to Klosec. "We have a new message from the investigators. They tell us to be on radio standby. Someone from the Terran Embassy wishes to speak to Philippi this afternoon." "So soon," Klosec remarked, with mild annoyance. Turning to Gior, he asked, "Is she ready to speak? Did you talk to her and explain our offer?" "I did talk with her," Gior said. "But not much. Knowing that she has been found seemed to upset her. I thought we would have more time, so I did not...go into details. I suppose I had better go up after midmeal and say further." He pulled at his beard, clearly not sanguine about how the situation might progress. "I fear to rush her. She is so nervous about it all." "She was nervous." Ktas could not resist the temptation to insert himself into the discussion. "Especially when she learned who was intended for her." Klosec’s face darkened at Ktas‘s tone, which trembled on the border of insolence. But before he could speak, Ktas casually added, "Luckily I was able to persuade her." The whole table suddenly seemed to be staring at Ktas in astonishment. Letting old habit have its way, Ktas pretended not to notice and resumed eating for a few moments. As he chewed, he let his eyes gaze up and down the table, and slowly assumed a look of confusion. "That is still what you wish to be done, yes?" "Yes," Klosec half-snapped. "Then all is well," Ktas informed him, switching to an appropriately serious mode. "We are betrothed." As he said the words, he at last looked over at Teiba. "Unless...you say not. You have that right." "I would look more than a little foolish objecting, under the circumstances," Teiba replied, with the smallest hint of the banter that used to be customary between them. He considered Ktas, his face a study in cautious speculation. Ktas just presented his most maddening inscrutable smile and went back to eating. (End Part 1)

Susan Crites 2006

Click on the blinking Neon Heart to return to the Fanfic page.

Just FYI, one of the things you will find there is a novella called Trial by Friendship, which is the backstory/prequel/original where most of the past events mentioned in Seasons take place. Just in case you are curious or something....
Feel free to email Susan the Neon Nurse with comments!

Click on the Paypal button below if you'd like to toss a couple of bucks into the Crites coffers!

OR you could click on the NeonHearts.com banner below, and go see if I don't have something you desperately need in my online bookstore! (Check out the $1.99 and under Bargain Bin, and the cool stuff you can get from the Penny Bonus Bin if you spend $10!)