DAW 30th Anniversary Science Fiction Part 47

He sighed, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned on the console. Over three more weeks to go. If only he'd had access to the la'quo plant which suppressed the violence inherent in his warrior genes and allowed him to utilize his intellectual caste heritage-but it had been over a year since he'd had any; if only he'd been able to eat their cooked food-but the meat had been dead too long for the necessary enzymes he needed to be present.

He sighed again. Life since the Sholan starship had arrived had been full of if onlys for him. He'd been completely serious when he'd told them to keep their distance lest his hunger force him to ... He stopped the thought. Such a barbaric act was beneath his honor and dignity, but in as little as four days, he'd no longer have any choice in the matter.

Day 21 Thoughtfully, Jeedah went over to check the console and their flight path.

They were closer than she'd realized to emergence. They'd be there by mid-shift.

Chokkuh had definitely reached his critical point. His skin had been almost devoid of color for the last two days. Through its faint transparency, she could see the network of his veins. His eyes were bloodshot, and he'd definitely slowed down compared to even a couple of days ago when she'd told him not to touch their food dispenser. Now, if ever, was the time to make a bid for freedom-before he reached the same conclusion she had.

A shudder ran through her as she checked the control boards. Everything was green. It was time to go for Kate and Taynar.

Her plan was simple. When they emerged from jump-a.s.suming of course they didn't try to emerge in the same s.p.a.ce as some other object-and they'd lost enough speed for her to verify their position, she'd start dumping fuel. The transition from jump to normal s.p.a.ce was bound to wake the Valtegan, and when he came to the bridge, she'd be waiting behind the door. Taynar would have to sit in her Captain's seat so Chokkuh would think it was her, but she had to be the one to take the main risk. If either Taynar or Kate got injured, it woulddisable them both. What one experienced, so did the other: kill one and both died, that was the downside of the Leska link.

Jeedah counted down the seconds to emergence, Taynar sitting in as copilot.

As the image that represented them coincided with their marker, she disengaged the jump drive. The craft bucked once and began to vibrate as they hit normal s.p.a.ce. The breaking engines cut in, the sound of them deafening in the small craft. The Mara seemed to shudder along the whole of her length, then steadied as she began to slow.

Flicking down the view shields, she did a quick visual scan. Ahead of them was the unmistakable primary of the Chemerian home world.

"Kate says he's on his way," said Taynar.

"d.a.m.n!" She hit the emergency fuel release once, twice. Nothing happened.

No time to worry about it now. "Take over," she said, thumping the release on her safety belt and heading for the door to the lounge.

Taynar fumbled with his belt, finally managing to get himself free.

As she took up her position, Taynar turned around, yelling, "Wait! He's got Kate!"

The door slid open and the Valtegan edged in, holding Kate firmly in front of him. "Return to seat, Captain. I know your plan. Fuel safe, and we near second jump point."

"Let her go, Chokkuh," Jeedah said harshly. "Harm her and you lose the male, too, you know that."

"Maybe worth it. All I need is one Sholan."

Then everything began to happen at once. Kate's mouth closed on the Valtegan's arm and she bit down hard. Chokkuh shrieked in pain, turning his full attention on the source of his injury. Seeing her chance, Jeedah rushed him, screwdriver at the ready.

Kate was plucked free and thrown to one side as he turned to meet the greater threat. All Jeedah felt was a sharp pain across her chest and belly before she hit the wall. She heard a terrible high-pitched scream, then all went silent.

It hurt to breathe . . . G.o.ds, but it really hurt! The world swam dizzily in front of her, then Taynar was bending over her, his hand gently touching her face.

"Jeedah . . ." He dropped the rifle. "I finished him. He's dead. I'm sorry ... if I hadn't called out ... If I hadn't been slowed by what he did to Kate . . ."

She could see tears coursing through the short pelt that covered his cheeks.

Her arm felt like lead as she tried to raise it to touch his hand. He reached down and took hers instead.

"Not your fault, cub. We got him, that's what matters," she murmured, then stopped as coughs racked her, each one a fresh agony lancing through her chest.

"Tell Dyaf he owes me a meal. You and Kate, you collect, huh? Gotta pay debts, right? He won't rest easy knowing he owes me." She could hardly hearher own voice now, and she felt cold, so very cold.

"We'll collect, I promise," he said quietly, pressing her hand to his lips, trying to comfort her as he watched her eyes flicker and begin to close.

He waited until her hand relaxed and slipped free of his before he stood up.

"Jeedah?" Kate whispered from the other side of the bridge where she lay.

"She's gone," he said, voice breaking as he bent down to take the ID tags from round his Captain's neck. "Chokkuh's dead, too." He straightened up and taking a deep breath, went over to where his Leska was lying.

"It's nothing. I'm just bruised," she said shakily as he helped her to her feet.

He held her close for a moment, thanking all the G.o.ds of Shola that she was safe, and wishing with all his heart that Jeedah was, too.

Kate began to sob, her horror and distress filling his mind. Pushing his own fears aside, he sent calming thoughts to her and gently stroked her head, making small noises of encouragement. It was up to him now to be strong for both of them.

"Kate, we'll mourn her later," he said quietly. "We need to slow the Mara down and get a signal out to the Chemerian s.p.a.ce station as soon as possible, just as Jeedah planned."

He felt her nod her head, then she pulled back from him to scrub at her eyes.

"I can manage," she said, her voice still trembling.

He gave her one last hug, then headed over to the console, hesitating a moment before taking the Captain's seat.

Kate limped over and took the copilot's position. "Can you manage it?"

"Jeedah made sure I could," he said, his hands flying over the instruments as he applied the braking engines again and began steering the courier toward the Chemerian system. "Key in the code for the nav maps, please, Kate. I need to know exactly where the satellite station is. Jeedah said there was an approach path logged in the data banks. You send out the signal she prepared for us."

Epilogue.

Dyaf was sitting in the only quiet corner of the pa.s.senger lounge at Chagda Station, waiting for the shuttle down to Shola. He'd been nursing the same mug of c'shar for the last half hour now because he didn't feel up to pushing through the crowd at the bar to order another. It was stone cold, but it didn't matter.

Nothing much mattered since he'd heard of Jeedah's death.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Dyaf, may we join you?"

He looked up to see Taynar Arrazo and his Leska, Kate.

He sighed inwardly. If only he hadn't asked her to do that run . . . "I'm afraid I don't really feel like company just now, Taynar. I don't mean to be inhospitable, but . . ."

"We have something for you," said Kate, sliding onto the seat opposite him.

She held a small packet out to him. "I know Jeedah would have wanted you to have these."

He took it from her, turning it over before opening it. Jeedah's ID tags andchain spilled into his hand.

"She asked me to tell you that you owed her a meal and we should collect,"

said Taynar quietly, sitting down beside him. "Said you'd not rest easy until you'd paid her."

Dyaf looked at the tags one by one. "I didn't realize she still wore this one,"

he said, his voice deepening with emotions he suddenly found hard to control.

He rubbed his fingers over the engraved surface. "I got it for her last year, when we decided to stay with each other." He looked up at the two younglings, blinking rapidly to prevent his tears from spilling over. "She told you to collect, did she? Did she tell you why?"

Taynar's mouth opened in a small grin. "She told Kate."

"Because you gave her the job of taking us to Shola," said Kate. "It wasn't your fault she was killed, Lieutenant. If you'd sent Captain Rhokuul as you'd first intended, we'd likely be in the hands of the Valtegans now. Jeedah knew what was at stake. We all did. She wanted you to pay her debt because she knew that then you wouldn't feel responsible for her death."

"We've a private shuttle waiting if you'd honor us with your company," said Taynar.

"A private shuttle?" Dyaf raised an eye ridge. "Didn't know your family went in for such things."

"They don't. In fact, they aren't that impressed with me since I met Kate,"

said Taynar. "We belong to the En'Shalla Clan now, on the Aldatan estate, along with the other mixed Leska pairs like us."

Dyaf looked at Jeedah's tags again, not sure what he should do. He'd avoided any company that wasn't related to his job on the Khalossa since he'd heard of Jeedah's death, but he found himself wanting to go with the younglings.

They were the last link to his lost love. When Kate's hand closed on his, he jumped.

"Would you like me to fasten the chain around your neck for you, Lieutenant?" she asked gently. "I am so sorry for your loss. We miss Jeedah, too. She came to mean a lot to us."

He found himself nodding, and handing the chain back to the young Human female. He looked at Taynar as she leaned forward to fasten it about his neck.

This was not the petulant cub he'd known on the Khalossa. He'd changed.

"So where are we going?" he heard himself say as he felt the comforting warmth of the tags against his pelt. "The Shanagi Palace restaurant?" He got to his feet and waited for them to rise.

"It's overrated," said Taynar, getting up. "We chose a small restaurant in Jeedah's hometown because her family said they'd like to meet you, too."

"I don't think," he began, then stopped as Kate slipped her arm through his.

"They've asked us to bring you," she said quietly. "But first we three will celebrate Jeedah's life."

Julie E. Czerneda.

Julie Czerneda is an extremely patient woman. Not only did she herself know where she wanted to be published, but fellow author Josepha Sherman had told her that DAW was the perfect home for her. So Julie sent in a ma.n.u.script and waited for it to wend its way through the teetering piles of ma.n.u.scripts that often make finding my desk a nearly impossible task. Periodically she would call to make sure her ma.n.u.script was still there, and I would take a quick look and a quick skim of the beginning, and tell her that it was indeed there, and that what I had read seemed interesting, and I hoped I'd have a chance to read the entire ma.n.u.script soon. Finally, because Julie was so nice and so patient, and because the part I had looked at really did seem interesting, I decided to ignore all the pressing things I had to get to Production for a day, and read Julie's ma.n.u.script.

Needless to say, Julie's patience was duly rewarded. My memories of the phone call to tell her that I was going to buy A Thousand Words for Stranger are very different from Julie's. Someday, if you ask her nicely, she'll tell you her version of the conversation.

A Thousand Words for Stranger proved to be merely the start of a prolific career for Julie as a science fiction writer. Since its publication in October, 1997, Julie has written two other novels in the Trade Pact Universe series, two novels in the Web Shifters series, and In the Company of Others.

"Prism" is a tale about Esen, the main protagonist in the Web Shifters novels, which is especially fitting as Julie is currently at work on the third volume in that series.

-SG.

PRISM.

Julie E. Czerneda.

IMAGINE being a student not for ten orbits of a sun, or thirty, but over two hundred such journeys. Granted, I spent the first few decades doing what any newborn Lanivarian would do: eating, metabolizing, differentiating, growing, eating, metabolizing, differentiating, growing ... I remember it as a time of restlessness, of an awareness I was more, but unable to express this other than to whimper and chew.

The day did arrive when I opened my mouth and something intelligible came out. I distinctly remember this something- web-beings being possessed of perfect memory-as a clear and succinct request for more jamble grapes. My birth-mother, Ansky, remembers it as an adorably incoherent babble that nonetheless signaled I was ready for the next phase of my existence. So she took me to Ersh, the Senior a.s.similator and Eldest of our Web, who promptly grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and tossed me off her mountain.

While horrifying to any real Lanivarian mother-and likely to anyintelligent species with parental care-this was Ersh being efficient. I was thus encouraged to cycle into my web-self for the first time. It was that, or be shattered on a rock seven hundred and thirteen meters below. Instinct, as Ersh rather blithely a.s.sumed, won, and I landed on the surface of Picco's Moon as a small, intensely blue, blob of web-ma.s.s. A somewhat flattened blob, but unharmed.

Unharmed, but I recalled being overwhelmed with foreign sensations as my universe widened along every imaginable axis. I floundered to make some sense of it all, until, suddenly, everything became right. I knew without being told this was my true self, that there was nothing unusual in losing touch, sound, sight, and smell while feeling the spin of stars and atoms, hearing harmony in the competing gravities of Picco and her Moon, seeing the structure of matter, and being perfectly able to distinguish what was appetizing from what was not.

Appet.i.te. I formed a mouth, small and with only one sharp edge, then began scanning my new universe for something to bite. There!

Not knowing what it was, I ripped a mouthful from the edible ma.s.s so conveniently close.

Ersh-taste!

Ideas, not just nutrients, flooded my consciousness, new and nauseatingly complex. Ersh-memory. Even as I hastily oozed myself into the nearest dark and safe-looking crevice, I gained a word for what was happening to me.

a.s.similation. This was how web-beings exchanged information-by exchanging the memories stored within their flesh. Our flesh.

Exchange? I was mulling that over when a sharp, unexpected pain let me know I'd paid my price for the knowledge.

My studies had officially begun.

What followed were times of wonder and the expansion of my horizons . . .

Okay, what really followed were centuries of always being the last to a.s.similate anything and being convinced this was a plot to keep me stuck with one of my Elders at all times. In retrospect, it was probably more difficult for them. The ancient, wise beings who formed the Web of Ersh had made plans for their lives and research stretching over millennia and, as they routinely a.s.sured me, I hadn't been so much as imagined in any of them.

Maybe in Ansky's. Ansky's outstanding enthusiasm about interacting with the locals meant I wasn't her first offspring-just the first, and only, to taste of web-ma.s.s. The rest grew up clutched to what I fondly imagined were the loving teats, bosoms, or corresponding body parts of their respective species.

I was tossed off a mountain to prove I belonged here, with Ersh and whomever else of my Web happened to be in attendance. While they could have cycled into more nurturing species-the ability to manipulate our ma.s.s into that of other intelligent species being a key survival trait of my kind-I'm quite sure it didn't occur to any of them. I was not only Ansky's first, I was a first for the Web as well, having been born rather than split from Ersh's own flesh. This was a distinction that made at least some of my web-kin very uneasy. Mind you,they'd been virtually untouched by change since the Human species discovered feet, so my arrival came as something of a shock. Ansky was firmly reminded to be more careful in the future. Her Web, Ersh p.r.o.nounced sternly, was large enough.

We were six: Ersh, Ansky, Lesy, Mixs, Skalet, and me, Esen-alit-Quar-Esen for short, Es in a hurry. Six who shared flesh and memories. Six given a goal and purpose in life by Ersh: to be a living repository of the biology and culture of all other, tragically short-lived intelligent species. It was an endless, grueling task that took years of living in secret on each world, ingesting and a.s.similating the biology of each ephemeral form, learning languages, arts, histories, beliefs, and sciences, all while traveling the limits of known s.p.a.ce.

Not that I was ever allowed to go.

Ersh had dictated I was to stay on Piece's Moon until I was ready. Ready? I understood waiting until my body grew into its full web-size. After all, ma.s.s had to be considered when cycling into another form. It was wasteful, if entertaining, to gorge myself simply to cycle into something larger, then have to shed the excess as water anyway upon returning to web-form. Then there was the issue of learning to hold another form. The others presumed my staying Lanivarian from birth till impact meant I'd be able to distort my web-ma.s.s into any other I'd a.s.similated. They were wrong. While I could immediately return to my birth-form for a moment or two, after all this time, I still couldn't hold other forms for any duration. I might have done so faster, had Ersh chosen to teach me what I needed to know-and the others refrained from terrifying hints I might explode if not careful-but Ersh had definite ideas of what and how I was to learn.

Which was the real reason I still wasn't "ready" after two hundred years.