Fire Season Page 8
* * *
Climbs Quickly understood the utility of the thunder barkers with which Death Fang’s Bane and Shadowed Sunlight regularly practiced, but that didn’t mean he had to like them. Not only were they loud—even with the sound-blockers Death Fang’s Bane carefully inserted into his ears—but they smelled bad.
Therefore, when there were signs that another such session was about to happen, Climbs Quickly absented himself and scampered over to the gazebo, where he found Left-Striped poking at Right-Striped’s feet.
Right-Striped protested indignantly,
Taking advantage of his brother’s relative helplessness, he tickled his fingers along where the new skin remained tender and uncalloused. Right-Striped wriggled free, snorting with laughter, then pounced on his twin. The two wrestled for a few minutes, then sat up and gave Climbs Quickly their full attention.
Climbs Quickly said. He carefully hid his disappointment. He was very happy living with Death Fang’s Bane and her family, but he had very much enjoyed having other People nearby these last several days.
Climbs Quickly knew that by the standards of the two-legs, the twins were departing with hardly anything. However, each had a carry-net in which was wrapped some light, nourishing food—including sun-dried meat. In addition, they each had a few long pieces of cluster stalk. Despite the drought, there was ample water in the direction in which they were headed.
Climbs Quickly could not disagree. Although he was sorry to see his new friends leave, he encouraged their intention, going with them for a ways, turning back only when he might otherwise be late for dinner. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t feed himself, or that Death Fang’s Bane didn’t know through their shared link that he was well, but he knew she would worry until he was back home.
He arrived to find that both Shadowed Sunlight and the new human—Bleached Fur, as he thought of him, not knowing his qualities well enough to give him a real name—had departed. Death Fang’s Bane’s mind-glow held a curious swirl of conflicting impulses. On the one hand, Climbs Quickly sensed a sorrow bordering on despondency. Mingled with this were contradictory spurts and sparks of what felt like joy or excitement. To further confuse the matter, outwardly, Death Fang’s Bane was much her usual self.
That is, until Healer said something and Death Fang’s Bane’s wild emotional state exploded into something one step short of fury.
* * *
Despite invitations to stay for dinner, both Karl and Anders said they had to get back home. Karl offered to drop Anders off. Since this meant Karl would have a longer trip home, the two boys left earlier than they otherwise might have done.
As Stephanie watched Karl’s air car becoming a vanishing dot, she found herself wishing she was going with them. Well, not really with them. She wished she was going off with Anders.
If I had my provisional license, she thought as she trailed despondently in to do some of the lessons she’d let slide, then I could have taken Anders to Twin Forks. We could have talked some more. Given how Karl kept snapping at him, I wonder if Anders will even want to hang out with me again. He might want to avoid any chance of seeing Karl.
The thought made Stephanie so miserable that she actually messed up a couple of steps in a complicated calculus problem she was working on and had to go back and re-do them.
Of course, Karl was right, Stephanie thought, trying to be fair. Anders was handling that gun unsafely—even if he had just seen it unloaded. I’ve never forgotten the story about that guy who shot a hole in his own wall while cleaning a gun he was sure was completely unloaded. Still…Karl was pretty harsh.
Thankfully, Mom called Stephanie down to dinner soon after. Stephanie hurried down, determined that at least one of her obsessions would finally be addressed. Since she wasn’t ready to talk about Anders, that meant asking her folks to schedule her for her provisional license test.
Climbs Quickly had returned and was waiting on his stool by the table, eagerly eyeing the platter of roast that Mom had just set down. Since the gazebo had been empty of treecats on her return from the firing range, Stephanie had a pretty good idea where he had been. She thought he looked a little down, so she gave him an extra large helping of the roast, taking it from the rare center.
As Stephanie spooned a very large helping of mashed potatoes onto her plate and topped them with a sea of gravy, she waited impatiently for her parents to stop discussing some bit of local politics. Interrupting was not permitted in the Harrington household, maybe because Richard Harrington’s job provided interruptions enough.
“And how was your day, Stephanie?” Mom asked. “It sounds as if it was rather busy.”
Stephanie heard the subtext. Don’t forget. You promised when we let you sign up as a provisional ranger you wouldn’t let your studies slide.
She ignored this by answering the actual question.
“It was great! Anders Whittaker turned out to be the only one of the visiting anthropological team free, but he came out and saw the mirror twins. They left today, by the way.”
Both her parents nodded and Stephanie went on. “I was thinking, my birthday is next week. To celebrate, I’d really love to go into town and get my provisional air car license.”
Unsaid was that while learner’s permits could be acquired over the net, provisional licenses required a hands-on test. The provisional license only allowed for flying only in visually safe conditions, but that was better than a learner’s permit that required a licensed pilot in the vehicle.
Dad grinned. “Can’t wait to get a bit more freedom, I see. As if hang gliding isn’t enough. Well, you’ll have to wait an extra day.”
Mom nodded, also smiling. “Your dad is right. We’ve planned a birthday party for you. We were going to bring it up after dinner. We’ve already invited Scot, Irina, and, of course, Karl. Frank Lethbridge and Ainsley Jedrusinski are also going to drop by if they can. It’s fire season, so they may not be able to get free. And we thought it would be nice if you invited some friends closer to your own age.”
They waited a moment, as if expecting Stephanie to say something. When she didn’t, Dad took over.
“The hang-gliding club meets tomorrow, so you can invite a few of the kids from that you like best. You don’t have to invite all of them, but if you choose not to, be polite about how you do issue invitations.”
“Maybe you could invite the boy who was here today,” Mom added. “Andre, was it?”
“Anders!” Stephanie corrected.
She knew she sounded too severe, but she couldn’t believe what she was hearing—and that they sounded so happy.
How could they be smiling like they’d just told her they were giving her a big treat, when they’d just told her that she couldn’t get her provisional license on her birthday? Even if they didn’t know about her jaunts with Karl, they had to know she’d been spending lots of simulator time to get ready.
Did this mean they weren’t going to agree to the provisional license after all? Both of them thought she was spending too little time on her studies lately anyhow, never mind that she still got straight A’s. Okay. An A minus. So her standing in the chess club had dropped a little, but did that matter when she was doing stuff so much more important than playing games?
Lionheart looked up from where he’
d been messily devouring his slice of roast and “bleeked” very softly. Both Mom and Dad were staring at her. Stephanie strove to keep her temper.
“Anders,” she said carefully, “probably wouldn’t be able to come. He told me and Karl that his dad had set up some field tours over the next week or so.”
In her head her thoughts swirled like things of their own: That’s right. Plan a party without telling me. Make me invite a bunch of blackholes when the one person I’d really like to be there is going to be off with a bunch of grown up scientists. His dad understands that Anders is nearly grown-up. Why are you suddenly treating me like a kid?
She didn’t say any of this, but maybe something of it showed in her eyes or the set of her chin. She felt Lionheart trying to get her to calm down, but while she usually welcomed his help, this time she found herself resenting it. Here was another person trying to keep her from having her own goals and opinions!
Mom said very gently. “Well, I’m sorry Anders won’t be able to come, but there are still other people your age you could ask. We’d really like you to do this.”
Dad added. “Stephanie, you know we know you’re a remarkable young lady, but—and I admit it’s partially our fault for bringing you to Sphinx just when you were ready to get involved with group programs back on Meyerdahl—since we’ve been here, other than Karl, you don’t seem to have made any friends your own age.”
“Even Karl’s over a year older,” Mom added. “And that’s only the difference in years. Emotionally, what Karl has been through has made him much older.”
Normally, Stephanie would have jumped on this opportunity to learn more about Karl’s background, but right now she just couldn’t seem to care.
“I don’t,” she said, spacing the words so each came out like a slap, “like people my own age. They’re boring. It’s okay when we have something to do, like hang gliding, but having them over here would be horrible. Standing around talking would be hopeless. You don’t expect us to play pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey do you?”
Dad looked at Stephanie sternly. “Stephanie, don’t you see? You’re making our point for us. You’re going to need to learn to get along with people—not only of your own age, but people you find boring or annoying or whatever. You can’t go and be a hermit in the forest, not if you expect to do any good for anyone.”
Stephanie shoved her plate away, appetite suddenly gone.
“Some birthday celebration,” she said. “Instead of what I’ve been dreaming about, I get a socialization lesson.”
Mom looked very sad. On some level, Stephanie regretted what she’d said, but she couldn’t quite apologize. Dad still looked stern, which probably meant he was angry, but keeping his temper—he had one, too—under control.
“I can see,” Dad said, “that we’re past the point of discussion. We’ll talk about both the party and learner’s permit later.”
“May I be excused?” Stephanie asked, stiffly polite. “I have studying to do.”
“Of course.”
As she pushed herself back from the table and hurried to her room, her dad’s last words haunted her. He said “learner’s permit,” not “provisional license.” I can’t get a license without their permission. Is he going to stop me, after all my hard work?
Stephanie stormed into her room, stopping just short of slamming the door behind her. Instead of going to her computer, she flung herself on her bed. What’s wrong with them? Don’t they like me anymore?
She heard the door open and the soft pad-pad as Lionheart came in, shutting the door behind him. He thumped up on the bed next to her, but made no effort to touch her mood. She found herself wishing he would, even though a few minutes before the very idea had made her furious.
What’s wrong, Stephanie thought forlornly, with me?
* * *
Still troubled by the difficulties he had experienced when he had tried to help Death Fang’s Bane earlier, when his two-leg settled into her studies and some of her emotional turmoil quieted, Climbs Quickly reached across the distance to see if he could touch the mind voice of his sister, Sings Truly.
Even before he had included cluster stalk as a routine element of his diet, Climbs Quickly had possessed a powerful mind voice for a male. Despite these advantages, he still needed the help of relays from roving hunters to send his message and receive the reply.
With this reply, Climbs Quickly had to be content. He let Death Fang’s Bane know he was going out. She hugged him tight and made mouth sounds in which he caught “Right-Striped” and “Left-Striped.” Good, then. If she thought he was going to check on the twins, she would not worry.
Bleeking gentle reminder, he pointed toward her bed and was rewarded with a laugh—and a bright flicker in her mind-glow as well. She made more mouth sounds at him, none of which he understood, but the fussing tone was clear enough. She wanted him to go enjoy himself and not worry about her. She was fine.
The long summer nights were shortening, although the sky would hold an evening glow for a long while to come. Climbs Quickly scampered up the trunk of a nearby net-wood and worked his way through a route he had traveled many times before. Even as he kept alert for possible dangers—for although death fangs did not go up into the trees, a rotten branch could be as hazardous—he was aware of Death Fang’s Bane’s mind-glow. He knew when she stopped working and felt as she drifted off to sleep.
Eventually, Climbs Quickly came to the stand of blue point trees. Soon after, Sings Truly and Twig Weaver arrived. Both had brought carry nets with them. The seeds of the blue point tree were considered a delicacy among the People. Although it was early for many to be ripe, at this late stage the cones could be picked and stored. The seeds would continue ripening.
True-hands and hand-feet busy picking the cones, the three People fell into discussion. Twig Weaver offered to close himself from the discussion, but the siblings asked him to take part.
Sings Truly, who as a memory singer had access to a huge volume of the shared experiences of the People, did not contradict her brother. Climbs Quickly had noticed that since she had become the clan’s senior memory singer she had been more, rather than less, likely to invite the insights of others.
Perhaps, Climbs Quickly thought, having seen the thoughts and stored memories of so many People, memories grown faint with distance and time, she has come to value the new more, rather than less.
That was an interesting thought, and he tucked it away for further consideration. For now, he needed to get what advice he could and then return to Death Fang’s Bane. Now, of all times, he did not wish to be away from her.
It was very easy to explain to the others the source of his confusion. Although Climbs Quickly was becoming convinced that the two-legs were capable of communicating complicated ideas with their mouth sounds and the markings they made, still he pitied them. Mouth sounds must come in sequence. It had taken him some time to realize that the same sounds in a different order did not mean the same thing. He despaired of ever really understanding them.
Mind-speech, however, took many forms. Although one could “talk,” framing thoughts in sequence, when an experience needed to be shared, there was no need to resort to this cumbersome form.
Now he showed Sings Truly and Twig Weaver what he had experienced from Death Fang’s Bane that evening, presenting not only the impulses he had read from her mind-glow but the larger context of her interaction with her parents. He was even able to include his own interpretations of some of the mouth noises. These were mostly names, but he felt that even this little bit would clarify that the two-legs were intelligently c
ommunicating, not bellowing as the lake builders did when warning each other across the water.
For all the complexity, this sharing took very little time. He felt Sings Truly and Twig Weaver considering, weighing against their own experiences—and in the case of Sings Truly, against the experiences of many others.
Sings Truly said,
Twig Weaver did not so much interrupt as intersperse an image of how—despite his care—Climbs Quickly had found himself discovered by the young two-leg. Certainly, Death Fang’s Bane (although, of course, she had been given no name then) had been clever to figure out how to set a snare he could not detect although he (and others of the People) had always been able to step over and around those set by her elders…
Sings Truly’s thoughts went on,
The thought startled Climbs Quickly. He was no memory singer, but he could summon some of his older memories. He compared them, tasted the memories that Sings Truly offered for his and Twig Weaver’s inspection. The evidence was interesting. He offered them samples of his experiences with Death Fang’s Bane over these last few days, choosing times when he had found her mind glow particularly confusing.
Twig Weaver said,
Climbs Quickly considered. Certainly the interactions of Death Fang’s Bane and those of her peer group—especially some of the more aggressive ones—made sense if these were not only the results of hierarchical competition, but also maneuvering to breed. Didn’t the female two-leg Death Fang’s Bane disliked the most have a male who followed her attentively?