The Second Moon

by Bob Marx

  * * *

  A day on Syton was approximately twenty-eight shipboard hours, but the erratic cycle of brightening and returning dimness in the Syton gorge was dictated by several confusing factors—Syton’s own rotation, the presentation of the chasm to the sun, and the reflected light from the planet Conboet and sister moon, Eian. Conboet dragged its two moons about the sun creating a year of three hundred and twenty-nine of these extended days, making a Sytonian year about five percent longer than a year as it had been measured on Tanis. The natives divided their year into septets or months of forty-seven days, and while the natives never developed the concept of a week; humans had difficulty leaving the seven-day period behind. By the Sytonian calendar, Avram’s party was planned for the twentieth day of the Sixth septet, or sixty-seven days away.

  It was a time of constant activity for Elizabeth. Everyone tried to help, but Avram was useless, Julian kept to herself and her music and Beloit McMaster kept Jasin busy away from home. The incident in Bistoun had traveled widely, causing unrest and more civil disobedience than normal. Covering the territory between four widely spaced major human settlements was nearly impossible for only two Enforcers, but they were unable to recruit anyone else to the thankless job. When Jasin was home, he tried aiding Elizabeth, but their relationship was awkward. Forced conversation or uncomfortable silence too often accompanied their times together. Jasin, figuring that he had been rushing things a little too fast had pulled back to a comfortable emotional distance.

  Elizabeth, however, was convinced that he had lost interest, and that it was her fault. She tried to tell herself that it was better this way. An affair with her boss’s son probably wasn’t wise or what she needed right now.

  In preparation for the party, Avram met with the Human Caucus to convince them that it was important to try to persuade the Sytonians to grant them equal protection from violence, even if they had to resort to the entrapment of Sy Loeton. Avram had asked Sy Toberry for help delivering personal invitations to the entire Council of Seventeen. While the towan was gone, cart after cart arrived at the mansion bringing the settler’s best furnishings. Elizabeth cleaned, and continually rearranged all the new furniture and expensive trappings, keeping a careful record of who had loaned what.

  One day after receiving a particularly cumbersome cabinet, meticulously carved from dense ironroot, she sought Jasin’s assistance to rearrange, for the umpteenth time, the main living salon where the party was planned. Positioning each new piece usually involved moving several others.

  She walked along the path that separated her small private garden from his cabin and found him sitting on the ground leaning against a large boulder, reading from Avram’s ancient book.

  “I didn’t think Avram liked anyone touching it,” she said.

  “He doesn’t,” he said, closing it carefully. “But there isn’t much else to read that I haven’t read a dozen times.”

  “I would be afraid to touch it. The pages look like they could fall apart just looking at them. Why do you take the chance?”

  “What’s the sense of having it disintegrate with no one having read it?”

  “Interesting?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t understand many of the ancient words and the phrasing is pretty convoluted, but you can make out the gist of the stories: a creation myth, brothers who fight each other, an enslaved people, things like that. I’m not very far into it. If there was anything else…”

  Elizabeth understood. She too had often wished there was more to read. “I was hoping you could help me move a new piece that just arrived.”

  “Just one piece?” He smiled. They had been through this before. “Help me up.” He held out his hand.

  She grinned, “Yeah, just one, like all the other times.” She reached out and took his hand to pull him to his feet.

  It was a simple touch—Jasin didn’t mean anything by it, and Elizabeth certainly hadn’t expected the feeling that spread through her body from the hand he continued to hold so gently. They made eye contact, but let their hands fall apart, their discomfort with each other returning.

  “Do you ever run,” asked Jasin, as they made their way towards the house.

  Run! He is certainly a strange one, she thought. “It hurts my lungs.”

  “You just need more meita. Tomorrow morning, there’s a place I want to show you.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. Why lead him on when she felt no desire to get involved? Why hadn’t she just turned him down flat?

  The next brightening brought a bone chilling mist, a penetrating fog that refused to lift. Stones crunched beneath their feet and the thick atmosphere condensed, then froze across their scarves as they ran. Elizabeth shifted a fresh, porous section of her meita soaked cloth over her mouth and nose and struggled to keep up with Jasin, who was totally focused on the terrain ahead. She didn’t think he had even glanced in her direction. Maybe she was wrong about him. She admired his focus and drive to succeed, shown as much by the way he attacked this broken mountainside as his dedication for his job. How could he possibly believe there was room beside his ambition for her in his busy life? Why after ignoring each other for weeks did he suddenly think there was a place for her? That she was the least bit interested? She wasn’t…was she?

  Occasionally wisps of snow, falling from the gorge rim high overhead, blew across their path, refreshing their sweaty faces. As the incline increased, Elizabeth’s knees began to ache. She couldn’t remember the last time she had run or been so physically challenged, but she wasn’t going to let him get the better of her.

  Jasin heard her grunt and turned to check. All he could see were her eyes peering out from above her breathing scarf. “You okay?” he asked, breathlessly.

  She nodded, so he turned to concentrate once more on the path. She was remarkable, he thought. This had to be the toughest section of the run. If he had been with Mas, they would have rested by now, but her courage and strength invigorated him. Finally, they rounded a curve and found themselves perched on an outcropping jutting out into open space. On one side of the promontory, the steep terrain fell off into a craggy ravine before rising again into the clouds surrounding the gorge rim. Looking in the opposite direction, a vast section of the inhabitable lands lay revealed. Jasin stopped. They were both panting. Neither said anything until they caught their breath.

  “How’s your throat…burning?” he asked.

  “The extra layer of meita cloth helps a lot,” she replied a bit hoarse, unwilling to admit how much pain she really was in.

  “For the record,” he admitted, “that was the fastest ascent I ever made. For someone who claims they don’t run, you’re terrific.”

  “For the record, we just made the fastest ascent.”

  Jasin smiled. “I spend too much time inside my own head. Sometimes, I get a little self-centered, but that’s why I wanted to share this. Look.” He pointed off into the distance, away from the mountain wall and down into the vast gorge.

  The view was unlike any Elizabeth had never experienced. She could follow the road out of Nova Gaia and down towards the billowing waterfall that marked the halfway point to Lake Chook. In the direction of Soto Harbor dense clouds rolled in from the distant Great Lake, obscuring whatever secrets the natives hid from them there.

  “Do you know why they have prohibited travel to Soto Harbor?” she asked.

  “No, and I don’t know what the Kull Prohibition is for either. Neither does Beloit, although he claims to have been there once.”

  “The Kull?”

  “No, Soto. From what I can gather, he wasn’t always such a straight arrow. He says the harbor didn’t seem special…just boats. He thought it was probably a short cut to the warmer lands beyond the Kaysop range. Fistulee is also a harbor town. That’s where that bastard, Sy Loeton, lives now.”

  “You think he killed that woman, don’t you.”

  “If he didn’t, then we haven’t the faintest idea who did. Avram’s pla
n to get him to brag about it at the party might be the only way we have to get an answer. Are you sure you don’t run?”

  “No, and now I remember why,” she said rubbing her knees.

  “It is such a wonderful release. When I’m up here it feels like I’m half way to the top. Like I could almost escape.”

  “Escape…to where?”

  He shrugged, but looked up towards the rim. Huge clouds flew just beyond the cavern’s edge driven by the fierce surface winds.

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “You’d freeze before you got within five kilometers of the surface. I didn’t take you for a dreamer.”

  “I’m just curious. I know it’s unreasonable, but when you look down from up here our settlement appears so insignificant. Makes you wonder what’s outside.”

  She stared at him. Nothing had led her to believe that Jasin was a hapless explorer, a daredevil capable of throwing caution to the wind. “You said escape. Escape from what?”

  “Poor choice of words I suppose.”

  But it wasn’t. Elizabeth felt like a bright light had broken through the clouds above to illuminate his soul. It was suddenly obvious. He felt trapped; his life as one of only two Enforcers was a series of expectations and duties. He lived in the shadow of his parents, both figuratively and in reality. He lived in Beloit McMaster’s shadow as well.

  “You should move away,” she said. “Make a new life just for you. No obligations to anyone.”

  “You think you know me well enough to make that suggestion?” he retorted, but his gentle smile revealed she had struck close to the truth.

  “No…but I’d like to.” Her unguarded admission surprised her; it was as if someone else had spoken. Jasin was not only kind and sensitive, but complex as well. He was attentive, supportive, and reliable. Her unconscious mind must have understood all this, forcing itself to be heard. Quickly, she tried to break the silence and embarrassment her revelation had brought.

  “Panvera is high like this, just on the other side of Mount Schtolin. Sometimes the temperature is pretty brutal. Have you been there?”

  Jasin shook his head.

  “Well, maybe someday you could come with me and meet my father. Panvera is unique.”

  “So is this,” he declared softly.

  They spent nearly an hour sitting and talking, taking in the views Jasin’s special spot afforded until they became chilled from their sweaty clothes. Jasin helped her stand and once again they both could sense something pass between them as they touched. This time Jasin didn’t let go.

  It was an awkward first kiss, uncomfortable, as much from the differences in their heights, as their unfamiliarity with each other. They each backed away slightly, unsure. She brushed Jasin’s shaggy locks aside to see his eyes.

  “I need a haircut,” he said lamely. “I usually wear it shorter.”

  “I’m pretty good with a blade.” She smiled.

  “We’d better be getting down,” he said, his heart beating so loudly he was afraid she’d hear it.

  “I promised Julian I would help her with the hem of her dress,” she said, lifting the edge of her scarf self-consciously over her mouth and nose, leaving only her sparkling eyes to reveal the feelings he had awoken.

  “Did you enjoy your run this morning, Elizabeth?” Julian inquired. “Lucky you got it in before the storm. I haven’t seen the two of you together much. Not that it’s any of my business…just a mother’s curiosity.”

  Elizabeth tried to ignore the opening that Julian had created. She was unsure and uncomfortable even thinking about their relationship, if that’s even what you would call it. She asked Julian if she thought the rain would continue much longer.

  But Julian ignored her parry and continued, “You know…I believe he has deep feelings for you.”

  Elizabeth looked up from the hem she was attempting to level and stared at Julian. “Your son is a wonderful man. He has gone out of his way to make me feel welcome here, but I’m afraid there’s little chance of any…romantic involvement.” She wondered if Julian could detect her hesitation, but disliked Julian’s prying.

  “What do you mean, you’re afraid?”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and sighed.

  “Do you have another boyfriend? Is it Mas? All the girls like him.”

  “Oh no! Mas and I are just friends. It’s nothing like that.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut. It’s just that you should try to be clear with Jasin. He’s inexperienced at reading emotions…not much practice in a family like ours. But I know my son thinks you’re one of the most intriguing and intelligent young women he’s met.”

  Elizabeth looked away, her face turning red. How does she know what her son thinks? Whose business was it? Certainly not Julian’s.

  Julian knelt down beside her and gently turned Elizabeth’s head so she could look into her eyes. “If it’s the job you’re worried about, you needn’t be afraid. You don’t work for Jasin; you work for us, and as long as you continue to perform your duties here, we don’t care what you do in your spare time, but if it involves our son...well, just don’t avoid a relationship because of what Avram or I might think.” Julian stood up and unfastened the gown, letting it fall to the floor. She put on her robe. “Avram and I will fix dinner for ourselves tonight. Why don’t you take the night off.” It wasn’t a question.

  Avoiding a relationship? Is that what she was doing? That’s definitely what she should be doing. Julian should only know what happened on the mountain. Elizabeth’s head was spinning. It would affect her job. There was no doubt about it. Perhaps Julian believed that any woman that would reject her son would need some really outlandish reason like being afraid for her job. But no, Elizabeth knew that Julian had a pretty honest appraisal of her son. She had heard them talking at the dinner table about his stiffness and difficulty in letting go. Elizabeth recognized those attributes too, but she also saw sides of Jasin they probably never knew existed.

 

  After finishing her chores for the day, Elizabeth warmed some water and filled the tub in her room. She still couldn’t believe the luxury she had been provided. Even Avram and Julian didn’t have a bath in their room. True, she had to spend hours cleaning the ceramic monster when she first arrived, but now it was a welcome treat, when she found the time to fill it, which today Julian had provided. She shed her clothes and stepped into the bath, letting the warm water relax her. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Jasin since they kissed. She had to see him again if only to prove that the feelings on the mountain had been real.

  Before the water cooled, she washed her hair and made sure she was clean head to toe. She stepped out and dried herself, and then sorted through her few clothes, putting on a blouse and simple skirt that made her feel pretty. As she brushed her hair, feelings of anticipation and excitement began to simmer, feelings that she thought had died were awake and it frightened her. Was she being too forward thinking Jasin might be feeling the same?

  Suddenly a blinding flash of lightning cut the dimness outside and it began to pour. She peered through her windows. Blackness and rain filled her small garden. Elizabeth took the small candle from her table and brought it closer to her bed. Her first night off and she was trapped inside her bedroom. She put the candle down and rolled onto the bed. All the exhilaration she had felt was melting into despair, and she desperately fought to control the heaviness in her heart. Listening to the storm, she fell asleep.

  She slept for over an hour. Her room was dark, but clearly from the emerging stillness, the rain must have abated. Rising, she peered out the window. The sky above Jasin’s cabin was speckled with small pinpoints of moving light. It took a moment before realizing that she was seeing burning embers escape from Jasin’s chimney.

  As she watched the tiny glowing bits, Elizabeth’s desire returned. Jasin was just a short walk away…a short walk through the darkness. The path would be a mess and she only had a small lantern. It would be enough she told herself
. She could do it. Before fear could change her mind, she quickly brushed her sleep-tossed hair, threw on a coat, lit the small lantern, and opened her outside door.

  There she froze. Deep puddles, visible from the light of her lantern, dotted the path and revealed a light rain. Five meters beyond the doorway, at the edge of her circle of light, heavy blackness barred the way. She took a hesitant step outside and closed her door. Carefully, she made her way across her small garden terrace, and moved toward the cabin. The wind blew rain into her face and swept her long hair aside. She forced herself to keep her mind clear of any thought other than seeing Jasin, but the darkness closed in around her. Just take one step after another, she told herself. Doubt invaded. She turned to look at her room. Through the window, she could make out the tiny glow of the candle she had left burning. It was reassuring. All she had to do is take a few steps and she’d be safely back in her room. She steeled herself. Taking a deep breath she turned to go on, but the path had disappeared. Everything had disappeared. The lantern’s flame had gone out.

  Her breathing became shallow and rushed. Disoriented, she took a few hesitant steps forward. Blinding light flashed, flooding the surrounding area, then immediately a deafening clap of thunder and darkness. Rain pummeled her.

  The first thing she saw when her sight returned was the plume of sparks from Jasin’s flue. They were actually much brighter than her lantern. She hadn’t seen them before. Her focus had been down on the path, not looking up into the sky, but there they were, beckoning her. She would follow the column of burning embers. Anything would be better than standing in the rain. Slowly, no longer following the path, she made her way straight towards the cabin.

  Occasionally, she imagined scratching sounds or footsteps near her and she would stop and hold her breath unwittingly. She could smell wet musky cylith fur. They were hiding in the dark, waiting for her to stumble, waiting to attack. She squeezed the lantern handle prepared to swing it into the lunging beasts. She knew it was irrational, but she listened for their movement nonetheless.

  By the time she made it to the cabin, she was wet, muddy, and totally frazzled. Not exactly the in the condition she had hoped, but extremely proud of herself. She knocked on the door.

  “Come in, come in. You’re crazy to be out in that weather. Do you know that? Here, let me take that wet coat” Jasin placed it carefully over a chair and hurried over to the corner to find a towel.

  Elizabeth exchanged the useless lantern for the towel and started drying her hair. “The lantern went out…” she began lamely. “I wanted…I want…” Elizabeth shook her head in frustration. The words stuck in her dry mouth. “Do you have any water?” she finally asked.

  “Of course. Come sit down next to the fire and I’ll get you some.”

  Elizabeth looked down at her muddy shoes. “I’m filthy, and I wasn’t going to stay long.”

  “Don’t be silly.” He knelt down and untied her shoes, removing them gently, using one hand to hold her ankle steady so as not to make her fall.

  They walked over to the fireplace and she collapsed into his only chair. He handed her some water, which she sipped slowly, taking a few moments to warm-up and relax.

  “Jasin…” she finally broke the silence, “I came over to—”

  He leaned over and kissed her. She wasn’t prepared for the passion in his kiss, but it was her intense desire that surprised them both.

  With tender intimacy, they took time exploring. Initial nervousness melted away as they teased and excited each other, finding little hot spots and secrets that hid beneath their clothes. Jasin, delighted in discovering Elizabeth’s body— the beauty of her large brown eyes, her delicate nose and slender neck, the perfect curve of her full breasts. He caressed them until Elizabeth coyly covered their aroused firmness. She rolled over, pulling Jasin beneath her, and swirled her silky hair sensually across his handsome face and broad, hairless chest. Their love play continued until Jasin, unable to restrain himself any longer, entered her.

  She took him willingly, moving against his motion, wrapping her long legs around his muscular body, pulling him into her, until his deep thrusting brought him to a breathless climax. She held his shaking body, stroking his thick, black hair, until he rolled to her side. She turned to face him and asked, “Why did we wait so long?”

  They cuddled for nearly an hour, listening to the storm, whispering, and touching, until Jasin, newly aroused, resumed their lovemaking. Wanting to please Elizabeth, he concentrated on her pleasure. She lay still, passively trying to enjoy his efforts, but soon her mind began to wander. She needed more.

  Exchanging places, she immediately began to feel empowered and the control excited her, making her feel more lustful. She straddled him, tilting her hips forward, and rocked gently, finding just the right rhythm, the proper pressure. From deep within, her passion grew and spread throughout her body, enveloping her, the warm glow…and then, violent spasms took her, along with Jasin, over the edge, and into that long awaited bliss she had nearly forgotten.

  Soiree

  Frosted mist often enveloped the gnarled foothills behind the Elstrada compound. On other occasions, a warm breath of fog obscured the roll and tumble. Seasons had no place in the Syton gorge, especially at the base of Mount Trinity where the fickle climate continually transformed the hidden valleys and enchanting vistas that became Jasin and Elizabeth’s private playground. They spent most of their free time during the next half-septet exploring the ever-novel terrain and equally convoluted corners of each other’s lives. Running together, they would ascend the tumultuous landscape before the brightness became full and duty and obligation called them to their respective jobs.

  Mas joined them occasionally, but he never truly enjoyed rising early, and complained of being the odd man out, which in truth he was. Jasin and Elizabeth were deeply in love and nearly all their attention was lavished on each other. Avram delighted in watching the blossoming relationship, taking credit for the fine match. Julian, more restrained, never missed an opportunity to test Elizabeth’s sincerity or resolve.

  As the days of the fifth septet passed and the party approached, Elizabeth’s duties increased. Snuggled in Jasin’s arms one night, she confessed her fear that it would become more difficult to find time for each other. The next day, Jasin told Beloit that until Avram’s party, he would be staying in Nova Gaia to help Elizabeth with the preparations.

  “She’s already got the ring through your nose, boy. You’re going to regret ever falling in love,” the elder Enforcer groused. “It leads nowhere. Keep your distance.”

  “I don’t think so, Beloit. This is special,” argued Jasin.

  Beloit McMaster nodded knowingly, but his gesture turned into a sorrowful shake as he turned away.

  A week before the party, Jasin approached Avram. “Father, Beloit and I will be the only men without wives or companions. It might be construed that we have been invited in an official capacity and ruin the festive nature of the event. I don’t believe Sy Loeton will let down his guard knowing that we, who have been investigating him, seem to be standing guard.”

  “That’s not true. I can think of several members of the Human Caucus that will not be accompanied. Jorge Wynosk for one.”

  “You don’t think Nanc will come?”

  “I’ve heard she’s gone back to the Women’s Colony. Unless Jorge finds someone else…”

  “Still, there’s no reason for me to attend alone. Would you mind if I invite Elizabeth?”

  Avram tilted his head. “I don’t understand…Elizabeth will be there.”

  “I don’t mean in the kitchen. We could find someone else to help out.”

  “You know how important this party is to me, Jasin. Elizabeth has control of everything. She’s indispensable. Without her—”

  “Father, this is going to be the most extravagant party in thirty years, probably the best party in the next thirty as well. I don’t want Elizabeth to remember it by a few stolen glimpses from
the kitchen. She’s worked hard to make it successful. Don’t you think she has a right to experience it as we will?”

  “A right? She was hired to serve, not to party.”

  “I’ll find a dozen to help serve,” Jasin pleaded. “You know Elizabeth’s more to me than just a maid or kitchen servant.”

  “I don’t think of her as just a servant; she’s critical to the success of this event. Are you asking for her…or yourself?”

  Jasin paused. “Elizabeth doesn’t know I’m here. She would never presume…”

  “Then you’re asking for yourself, not on her behalf.”

  “I guess that’s true.” Unmasked, he felt embarrassed for asking. He wasn’t accustomed to talking about his romantic interests with his father. His personal relationships had always been private, his own intimate business, and not a subject for family discussion. His parents would pry, asking little sneaky questions to see if in a moment of unguarded weakness, he would admit to seeing this girl or liking that one, but he had always avoided going into detail, hardly ever even revealing a name. And now…

  Avram stared at his son. Jasin, lost for words, was nervous, and confused. They stood silently until Avram smiled, breaking the stalemate. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Although your mother doesn’t show it, she is also quite impressed by Elizabeth. Perhaps Elizabeth could act as her attendant…if you can actually find sufficient help for the kitchen.”

  “An attendant!” Jasin felt the anger rising within. “I’m asking you to allow her to be my companion for the evening and you’re still thinking of her as a servant.”

  “She does us no good hanging on your arm. Need I remind you that the purpose of this little soiree is to infuriate Sy Loeton? He must be dismayed at our supposed wealth and success. I want him angry, emboldened and careless. According to Sy Toberry, he believes females are nothing less than the dirt between his toes. I think seeing Julian with a servant of her own would upset him. And their size difference! I can’t imagine what that barbarian would think of a tiny female given status by a magnificently tall, personal handmaiden.”

  “You’re twisting my request to suit your own purposes.”

  “My purposes? Gaining our rights as full citizens isn’t just for me. I’m an old man. You’re going to be living here long after I’m gone. Do you want to be a second-class citizen? Do you want the likes of Sy Loeton to be able to kill whomever he pleases and have no legal recourse? You’re right about the importance of this party, but not because it’s going to be a glamorous affair with great food, but because Sy Loeton, knowing that he can’t be hurt, is going to foolishly brag about his involvement with our women. And possibly, with enough keetah and subtle manipulation, he’s going to admit using that woman and throwing her away like some piece of garbage.”

  “I only wanted Elizabeth to be able to enjoy the party,” Jasin said meekly.

  “And you’re right. You have changed my mind. She’s much too valuable to be hidden away. Tell her to get sewing on a dress for the evening—nothing too fancy, it shouldn’t detract from Julian.”

  Jasin turned away without saying another word, without saying what swelled and filled his heart. It wouldn’t matter what Elizabeth wore. Next to his mother, next to any woman he’d ever seen, she would draw attention.

  The rest of the week flew by. Elizabeth barely completed one chore before another three appeared, demanding immediate attention. At night, she sewed her dress by candlelight, fussing over each seam and stitch. She obsessed over minor details, telling herself it had to fit perfect. Any minor gap or fold of excess material taunted her and she’d work on it until, satisfied or exhausted, she’d collapse into bed. When morning came, she would slip into the gown and check her work in the brightness, mentally making a list on what needed to be adjusted when her household duties were done. On the day of the party, Jasin pulled Elizabeth aside.

  “This had better be important. I’ve got a million chores to complete before the guests arrive,” Elizabeth said.

  “It will just take a minute. There’s something I want you to have.” Jasin held out a small linen pouch that was bound with delicate purple string. Elizabeth untied the package and withdrew a sparkling azure crystal that hung from an intricately woven cord.

  “It’s beautiful, but you shouldn’t have. It must have cost you—”

  “Shush… just put it on.”

  Elizabeth slipped the pendant over her head, then leaned over and kissed him. “Does it have to be returned after the party, like the furniture?” she teased.

  “Of course, so don’t lose it or it will come out of your salary.” He was proficient now at reading her sarcasm, so he was surprised when she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and carefully replaced the necklace into the small pouch.

  “I was just teasing. You know that. Aren’t you going to wear it?”

  “Of course, but it’s not the sort of thing you wear cleaning. I love it, but go now, let me finish.”

  As soon as she was alone, she sat down and pulled out the necklace, letting it twist at the end of the fancy cord where it caught the sunlight and sent out little shafts of blue to dance on the floor. He had no way of knowing what this meant to her. She was twenty-six and this was her first piece of real jewelry.

 

  As requested, the five members of the Human Caucus arrived an hour before the towans from the Sytonian Council. Avram wanted everyone to be at ease with the staged improvements so they would be able to act naturally, as if this level of wealth and success was normal—a wise idea since the human visitors wandered through the mansion ogling the lavish furnishings, trying to guess from whose home this or that item was borrowed. All brought their spouses, except Jorge Wynosk, who in a typical breach of etiquette managed to surprise everyone by bringing little Wilem. The boy, according to Jorge, insisted on coming in order to see Elizabeth again.

  Avram mingled, enthusiastically complimenting everyone on their handsome dress. He scurried from one group to another, speaking rapidly and with great emotion, reminding them of his plan to goad Sy Loeton into bragging about his dalliance with the young woman from Bistoun, warning them not to be surprised or to interfere with his provocative manner directed towards his target. When asked about his excitement, he explained how important he felt this event was; how it could lead to great improvements, even the granting of rights to the Human settlement. Avram offered everyone keetah, but other than himself, no one showed interest in the bitter drink, especially without cause and appropriate ceremony. His capacity to partake in the intoxicating beverage, however, appeared unlimited and he hadn’t stopped drinking since first brightening.

  Music filled the great room. Julian had arranged with several of her musical friends to play for the evening. She often led these same musicians and was by far the most skilled. Avram had begged her to play, believing that the resulting attention and adoration focused on his petite wife would further irritate his mark, but she refused to be exposed to such attention, preferring, as usual, to remain unobtrusive in the shadows.

  Julian, however, had difficulty hiding with Elizabeth by her side. As Jasin had predicted, Elizabeth was absolutely stunning. The nights she had spent sewing by candlelight produced, a simple, yet exquisite, unadorned gown of unpretentious dark fabric. The careful tailoring accentuated her statuesque figure, allowing expression of every curve. She had artfully arranged her hair exposing her graceful neck around which she proudly showed off her new crystal pendant. Perhaps it was Elizabeth’s elegant simplicity, which stood out against the sea of intricate fabric and overdone jewelry on display, or perhaps it was just the fact that she stood a least a head taller than any other woman, but whichever, she drew appreciative looks from all the men, and quite a few jealous glances from the women. Elizabeth appeared oblivious to the attention, but Jasin enjoyed watching her as she attended to Julian’s wishes, confident that she was his love alone, and no one else would turn her head tonight.

  Before the natives
arrived, Julian asked Elizabeth to put Wilem to sleep in her back bedroom. With Jorge’s permission, they hurried through the kitchen, where Rahfi had been recruited to prepare his grilled delicacies. Wilem stopped to look at the raw meat and wrinkled his nose. The huge chef approached, pretending to size up the young lad for appetizers. With a playful shriek, they quickly escaped laughing into Elizabeth’s bedroom.

  “How have you been?” she signed. Her unpracticed fingers found it more difficult than she expected.

  “It’s boring at home without you. When are you coming back?”

  What could she say? She offered a hug and he practically flew into her arms. For the second time today tears began to well up. She hadn’t thought about Wilem much, but it was evident the little boy still loved her, and suddenly she felt that she had betrayed him. “Time to get undressed,” she signed and began to unbutton his shirt.

  Wilem pulled away. He shook his head forcefully and pushed her outstretched arms aside. “You’re a girl,” he signed. “I will undress myself, but not in front of you.”

  “My, my,” she muttered under her breath, “such a little man.” Elizabeth smiled and told him to lie down and get some sleep, explaining that the party was bound to be long, with lots of speeches.

  “Just like the funeral?” he asked.

  “Just like the funeral. I’ll come get you when it’s time to leave.”

  Sy Toberry was the first native to arrive. Once inside the house, the honored and respected towan quickly shed his dark cloak. Such protection from the colder climate—in fact clothing of any sort—was unusual for a towan, but his status allowed him to wear protection that other towans generally shunned. The female towa were occasionally seen with temporary wrappings for uncomfortable weather. One might see protective clothing at a work site, but native skin was much tougher, and a pelvic fold encased their reproductive organs making clothing a minor issue. Modesty, it had been discovered, was decidedly human. For a towan, displaying their scars of prestige was eminently more telling than mere cloth decoration. Sy Toberry immediately sought out Avram’s company.

  “Sy Toberry! I’m so glad you are honoring us tonight,” Avram proclaimed in his best Sytonian. “Would you care for a glass of refreshment, or perhaps you’re hungry. You must try these.” Avram indicated an untouched plate of sliced, grilled meats, arranged on rough native bread. “I understand they’re wonderful.”

  “Avram, your home is much different. So many more things.”

  “A few presents from friends. Nothing important.”

  Toberry nodded and reached for a piece of the cooked meat, giving it a sniff before swallowing it whole. His neck folds fluttered momentarily. “Thank you for preparing this gathering. It has been too long since both our councils have been together.” He took another slice and performed the same routine.

  “Come share keetah with me before the others arrive,” Avram suggested.

  Sy Toberry leaned forward off his middle leg. “I have warned you too many times not to drink the keetah cold.”

  “But it isn’t. Actually it’s quite hot tonight,” Avram protested.

  “Perhaps later, for ceremony.”

  “Well, suit yourself. My cup is nearly empty.”

  But before Avram could refill it, several more towan Council members entered the room. They were not as blasé about the surroundings as Toberry. Sy Lang brought up the rear of this group.

  “Avram!” he exclaimed. “This is magnificent. You’ve even prepared native food. How thoughtful.” Then gently, he pulled Avram aside for a word in private. “I have talked to several of the Council members. They agree that if Sy Loeton has harmed your people, he will be dealt with, but they warn you to be careful. Sy Loeton will not like being tricked. Traditionally, it is a sign of weakness not to confront your enemies honestly and if Sy Loeton is anything, he is a traditionalist.” This Sy Lang said with great conviction.

  “You promised that if Sy Loeton were proven guilty of the murder you would support granting humans full rights of citizenship. Has that changed?”

  “I will keep my word. But it is only my word. I will support the concept, but there isn’t a clear consensus among the Council. Sy Loeton is highly respected. He might be the most outspoken concerning his position on Human settlement, but there are others that silently agree with him. This gathering is a perfect opportunity to restate his feelings. It is the first such meeting in almost thirty years. Most of the members who will come tonight are here to support him. You must be careful how you act and what you say.”

  “That’s all the better,” said Avram, “then he’ll be at ease and overconfident. My plan here isn’t trickery. I imagine between you and Toberry most of the Council know what I’m up to. It doesn’t matter really. All that matters is that Loeton thinks so little of us humans that he is willing to admit, without fear of retribution, that he harmed that girl. It isn’t much of a plan. Just get him to boast a little, to brag about his sexual interest in human females. I wonder how the traditionalists will feel about that.”

  Avram and Sy Lang walked over to a small table where the keetah makings were laid out. Avram fixed himself yet another cup while the other natives watched with disapproval.

  “They’re not very understanding of your addiction,” observed Sy Lang, indicating his fellow council members.

  “My addiction! When did my enjoyment of your native drink become an addiction?”

  “Let’s just say it’s unusual.” Sy Lang distanced himself by finding the table of grilled meats. What was once a full plate was now nearly empty.

  Jasin joined his father at the keetah table. “Do you think he’ll show?”

  “Of course. From what I understand, the egotist probably thinks we’re throwing this affair to allow him to make speeches.”

  “Aren’t we?” Jasin raised an eyebrow and left to find Elizabeth.

  Food flowed from the kitchen and music filled the air. The party was now in full swing. Most had arrived, except Sy Loeton. Whispered concerns that the towan wouldn’t show percolated in the corners of the room. Without Loeton, the party was meaningless.

  Elizabeth was surprised at the constant attention the humans paid Julian. Everyone made a point to pay their respects. She greeted them all and, without missing a name, introduced them to Elizabeth, who stood dutifully by her side. In the beginning, Elizabeth was quite honored by Julian’s unnecessary kindness, but eventually realized that all the attention was making Julian uncomfortable and she was purposely diverting it. The extent of her shyness amazed Elizabeth. It didn’t quite fit with the private persona revealed to her these past months.

  Jasin joined them and for a few minutes the three enjoyed watching several couples try to dance to the music, but it lacked a strong beat and their attempts resulted in embarrassed laughter; the loudest coming from the would-be dancers themselves. The towans looked on with blank stares, not knowing what to make of it. Jasin counted heads. The crowd numbered almost thirty.

  Then, almost hidden beneath the cacophony of the party, Jasin detected faint barking and looked over at Elizabeth to see if she had heard it as well. The answer was evident in her blanched and terrified face. It was the sound of a cylith, and by the depth of the sound, it wasn’t a young pup. Others began to notice as the barking neared. The musicians stopped and silence filled the great room. A knock on the door broke the suspense. Avram walked over and opened the door himself.

  Sy Loeton, naked except for a dusting of snow on his shoulders, stood surrounded by two cloaked shivering bodyguards, at his side, an aged cylith. Shimmering flakes from the light snow that had begun to fall clung to the creature’s fur. Avram seized the opportunity to deflate Sy Loeton’s impressive entrance.

  “Your animal stays outside with one of your pytors. You’re most welcome, as is your other pytor if you feel the need for protection from our fierce little group,” Avram proclaimed in a voice guaranteed to carry.

  “Your language skills have improved,” Loeton r
esponded, “but not your understanding. A towan has but one pytor. A second would be an insult to the first.” Sy Loeton stepped inside followed by one of his two companions. “This is Sy Hone.”

  Avram acknowledged the pytor, then turned his attention back to Sy Loeton. “It has been a long time, nearly thirty years. I see you’ve been productive.” Avram reached out and traced Loeton’s scars. “Except for Sy Toberry, I have never known a towan so honored.” Sy Loeton’s chest held record to over fifteen initiates. The last was quite fresh.

  Loeton ignored the compliment, looking around instead. “And while I’ve been busy training towan, you’ve been busy collecting…trinkets.” He fixed his eyes on Avram daring him to counter the insult.

  Instead, Avram broke the tension with a good hearty laugh. “The rumors that you’ve lost your fire aren’t true after all. I’ve been misinformed. Please join us before the food is gone.” Avram led Sy Loeton and his pytor back to the party and introduced his family. Sy Loeton ignored Jasin and Julian, who barely reached his shoulder patches. Elizabeth was a different matter entirely. She was able to look him in the eye and didn’t blink during her introduction. Loeton asked Avram to repeat her name so he would remember it.

  The towan sniffed the air in front of Elizabeth and spoke to her. “Elizabeth Tournell. It is a big name for a big woman.”

  She didn’t understand.

  “He says your name is long, appropriate for a tall woman,” translated Jasin. “I think it’s a compliment.”

  The huge towan continued his overt inspection of Elizabeth until Avram, sensing her discomfort, suggested they continue into the heart of the party. Avram guided Sy Loeton and his companion over to the refreshments where Beloit joined them. Sy Lang, along with Sy Toberry, watched intently and listened from a distance.

  “Beloit, may I introduce Sy Loeton and his pytor, Sy Hone,” Avram then easily changed to Sytonian for his guests’ benefit, “Sy Loeton, this is my good friend Beloit McMaster. Beloit is responsible for enforcing our adherence to the Prohibitions.”

  They silently took measure of the other.

  Beloit was the first to speak. “Avram, please tell our guest that I am pleased to finally meet him.”

  Loeton responded directly to Beloit, and in Human. “Am I the monster you expected?”

  Avram and Beloit’s surprise was clear, but each for a different reason. “I wasn’t aware you spoke Human,” said Avram. “You have my admiration.”

  “Did you think it such a feat to learn another’s language in thirty years? Even you managed to learn ours. And you, McMaster…” Loeton shifted his attention to Beloit. “If you have questions concerning my activities, which are none of your business, honor dictates you should speak to me directly instead of questioning my friends. They shouldn’t be bothered.”

  “I’ll decide what my business is,” replied Beloit strongly.

  “You have no reason to look into the affairs of any Sytonian. As I understand your job, it is to police your own people; to insure your compliance with the Prohibitions.”

  “Gentlemen, please—” Avram began.

  Stung by the use of the word, Sy Loeton responded vehemently in his native tongue. “I am not any sort of man. I am Sytonian. I am towan. You will remember that. We have foolishly granted you permission to settle here, but you are only guests. You will not insult me again.”

  “Respectfully, sir,” Avram now spoke Sytonian as well, “Beloit is only trying to keep the peace. He is acting on my suggestions. We are most troubled by the death of a woman in Bistoun—”

  Avram was interrupted by Sy Lang’s arrival. “Sy Loeton, greetings.” He traced the fresh initiate scar. “You have mentored again I see. You are an inspiration to us all. Come, Sy Toberry wishes to see you.” The three natives left the humans.

  “I’m always amazed at Toberry’s status among them,” observed Beloit, whispering. “One mention of his name and the mighty Loeton follows like a cylith puppy.”

  “I have a feeling several of Toberry’s initiates are here tonight,” Avram replied. Then taking a deep breath he said, “Well, since we’ve lit the fire, let’s not let it cool down.” Avram walked over to the steaming keetah kettle and waved Elizabeth and Jasin over to help him prepare the first round of cups. While they filled them, Avram called for attention.

  “Now that all our honored guests have arrived, I would like to say a few words and offer the first keetah. Everyone in this room has worked hard on our behalf.” Avram looked directly at Sy Loeton to see if the lie registered. “And we are thankful. When we landed, we were barely four hundred. Now we number well over a thousand. Most of our people, like our children here…” he gestured towards Jasin and Elizabeth “…have never known any place other than this beautiful moon. This is now our home. Please join me in drinking keetah.”

  Steaming cups were handed out to many. When Elizabeth handed Loeton his, he placed the steaming cup firmly on his open palm, and sniffed the air again. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to smell the keetah or her. It struck her as rude and unnerving.

  Avram continued, “To all of you who have supported us…and to those willing to continue trusting us in the future as we join you in becoming full citizens of this world. Tyhinga!” Avram took a full swallow of the boiling liquid. Many of the humans repeated the salute, however, not one of the towans lifted their cup.

  An awkward pause followed. It was quiet except for the distant barking of the cylith outside. The natives continued to stare at Avram, who shifted nervously under their gaze. Normally, the remainder of the keetah was spilled on the ground, but the humans were unsure about soiling the fancy rugs they were standing on, and no one had ever dared perform the ceremony over such a controversial toast. Once the keetah was poured, tradition demanded it be drunk.

  Once again Sy Lang defused the situation. “To Avram and his family, for providing good food and shelter from the cold. Tyhinga!”

  “Tyhinga!” everyone proclaimed loudly as if to erase Avram’s first, inappropriate salute. Following Sy Loeton’s lead, the natives poured the remaining keetah ceremoniously onto the elegant rugs. The humans uncomfortably followed suit, watching the brown stains slowly grow. Only Avram continued to hold his full cup, but it didn’t matter. No one noticed this additional breach of conduct. No one even looked in his direction. He had embarrassed everyone with his presumptuous toast.

  Avram moved despondently to the edge of the room and leaned against the wall. Julian tried to console him but he seemed to have trouble concentrating on her words. His face was flushed and perspired. His hands trembled as he continued drinking the cooling keetah. Jasin and Elizabeth joined them and stood nervously by Avram’s side.

  “Father?” When Jasin got no reply, he turned to Julian. “Is he sick? Why is he sweating so?”

  “He’s upset,” Julian replied. “Just give him some time. The party isn’t going as he had hoped.”

  “Avram, come sit,” Elizabeth suggested. Avram looked up at her, his eyes glazed. Elizabeth felt a pang of recognition. Hyland had looked at her like that in his final days. After a few moments however, Avram began to return to normal, except that his breathing was shallow.

  “I’m fine now, thanks, but there isn’t any cause, for concern. I’m sorry, if I scared you. I’m fine now…really, just fine now. I don’t know what came over me. That was so stupid, so stupid…but I’m fine now.” Avram tried to take a deep breath, but it gave him pain. “Just give me some air.” He straightened up and pushed himself from the wall. “That insolent bastard…thinks he can walk, into our home, embarrass me…He’s nothing but a savage murderer.”

  Avram collected himself and rejoined the party. The family watched him with concern, but he put on a smile and plunged back into his role as host, making sure everyone was fed and making small talk among the humans. A large native group surrounded Sy Loeton and the meat platter, which Rahfi kept refilling.

  Once again, Loeton’s cylith howled. It was a haunting so
und. Most of the human guests either didn’t hear or were ignoring it, but several of the towans became concerned, especially as the sound grew closer. Among the few humans obviously troubled were Elizabeth, and young Wilem, whose frightened cries from the bedroom demanded attention. Elizabeth, trying to hide her own fear, scurried off to look after the boy. Jasin recognized her anxiety and followed her out of the room. The gruesome noise intensified. Finally, Avram, unable to stand it any longer, hurried out to see what could be done. Loeton, his pytor, and several curious towans, including Lang and Toberry, followed behind him. Most of the other guests continued to be unconcerned.

  Avram threw open the door to find Loeton’s companion struggling to control the powerful animal, which appeared intent on finding its master. The towan had tied a makeshift slipknot around the cylith’s neck and was trying to drag the choking beast away from the house. A ring of blood was evident where the rope had torn away fur and flesh. Loeton hastily pushed past Avram and immediately the barking stopped. Loeton tore off the leash and examined the wounded creature, which became docile in his presence. The towan who had tried to control the animal approached. He still held the bloody rope. Loeton looked up at him with anger. “You fool! You would have killed him.” Then Loeton rose and struck the towan who toppled over.

  “Is that how you deal with everything?” Avram asked. “Beloit was right, you’re a violent man.”

  Loeton stepped into Avram’s space. “I told you not to refer to me in that way. I’m a towan, but you…you’re a pathetic old man.” Sy Loeton’s voice was growing more intense.

  “What you don’t like, you try to destroy,” continued Avram, sensing an opportunity to goad Loeton, now that the native’s temper had surfaced. “You don’t like me, what are going to do about it? Strike me down? You don’t like humans. What are you going to do about us? Kill us off? You can’t do a thing. We’re here to stay. And you’re powerless to stop it,” shouted Avram, his breath condensing in the cold air, his face flushed.

  The small group of towans, who had followed them from the party, gathered near the door watching the encounter. Julian and Beloit, hearing Avram’s raised voice, rushed from the party to locate the trouble. They found the small group of natives blocking the doorway and tried forcing their way through the alien crowd.

  “No one has ever talked to me in this way. Why do you risk it?” Loeton asked Avram.

  “Because you’re a hypocrite, hiding in the shadows. You pretend not to like humans while secretly having intercourse with our women.” Avram glanced over his shoulder at the natives. “But you won’t admit it because you’re frightened that they will think less of you.” Avram raised his arm and repeatedly pointed his finger at Loeton while shouting, “You fear us, you’re afraid. That’s why, you won’t admit, harming that girl, you…” Avram stumbled and fell towards Loeton, who instinctively thrust out his arm striking Avram sharply in the chest to prevent him from falling into him. Avram dropped to his knees before collapsing to the cold ground where he lay lifeless on his side.

  To the crowd, who had only seen Avram from behind, it appeared as if Avram had yelled and lunged for Loeton. The aliens surged forward, the shifting bodies allowed Julian and Beloit to sneak through. They ran to Avram’s side and Julian tried frantically to breathe life back into him. Beloit pumped his chest attempting to get his heart started, but it was futile. They looked up into the crowd, searching for human help, but only indifferent native faces stared back. The cylith rose from Loeton’s side, silently moving over to the dead body, and began to sniff.

  In despair, Julian swung to hit the animal, but Loeton swiftly intervened. “He would kill you before you took your next breath,” he warned, slipping the rope loosely around the animal’s neck.

  Sy Toberry stepped out of the crowd and squatted beside Avram. He put his hand on Avram’s face and solemnly looked to the sky. Sy Lang also lowered himself, and for a brief moment, the entire native crowd followed their lead, lifting their heads as if following some unseen spirit.

  “Sy Loeton, it is time for you all to go,” said Toberry. He turned to Julian. Loeton’s two companions stepped forward taking their place on either side of her. “Take good care of your new wife as duty, honor, and tradition decrees,” added Toberry.

  Neither Julian nor Beloit, who were still numb from Avram’s sudden death, comprehended what was happening until Loeton’s companions lifted her from her feet. She swore loudly and struggled as her abductors carried her briskly away.

  “What do you think you’re doing!” screamed Beloit, as he lunged for them. Without breaking stride, the pytor delivered a vicious blow to the Enforcer’s head. Stunned and momentarily blinded, Beloit took a few faltering steps towards Julian’s fading voice, and then fell unconscious to the snow covered ground.

  Betrayal

  Sy Loeton traveled quickly, but Jasin easily followed the trail left in the snow. Reacting more on instinct than forethought, his ill-prepared rescue attempt quickly turned into a beating. Sy Hone, Loeton’s pytor, hearing Jasin’s approach, simply hung back and ambushed the inexperienced boy. Jasin saw neither his mother nor her new master before being dispatched. By the time Jasin returned bruised and humiliated, the great house stood empty of guests, the festive remains of the party a hideous mockery to the fate of the Elstrada family.

  Elizabeth had remained behind to focus on Beloit, bandaging his head injury, and forcing him to stay still. Upon Jasin’s return, her attention turned to his injuries, both physical and emotional. She caught what sleep her anxiety allowed in a chair between the two injured Enforcers. Waking them both every few hours, she looked for signs of concussions. When sleep evaded her, she walked the cold, dark house still haunted with smells of Rahfi’s grilled meats and spilled keetah.

  Both men rose with the brightness and by midday Beloit, arms limp at his side, stood next to Elizabeth and apart from the small crowd that had gathered to watch Jasin and Mas cover Avram’s linen shrouded body one solemn shovelful at a time. Tears stained the senior Enforcer’s gray bristled cheeks above the breathing scarf that poorly hid his emotions. Despite their arguments, Beloit had been devoted to Avram and shared his dream of peaceful co-existence. He had sacrificed much acting as the diplomat’s hammer. Now his inspiration lay dead in a shallow grave.

  Jasin had refused a service appropriate to Avram’s legacy, insisting on a quick, simple affair. “My father’s dead, my mother is not,” he had argued. “Our thoughts must be focused on her safe return and not on celebrating Avram’s life. There will be time later for a proper memorial.”

  Elizabeth knew he was right, but the haste and lack of tribute for a man who had dedicated his life to the safety of his fellow humans and died trying to secure their rights as a people hardly seemed fitting. She wondered what might have happened to the Tanis crew had Avram not been able to decipher and learn the native language, if he hadn’t agreed to the Prohibitions. Some people rise to the challenges before them and make difficult decisions, and some hide in silence. She looked over to Jasin. What kind of man was she getting involved with? Jasin lifted his head and returned the gaze. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Suddenly his focus shifted to the horizon behind her. She turned. Two native figures, their multiple legs hidden in the ground fog, watched the proceedings from a distance.

  Jasin threw down his shovel and stormed off in their direction. Mas grabbed his arm and Elizabeth ran over to help control him.

  “Jasin, let it be.” Elizabeth advised.

  “She’s right Jasin; they’re here to pay their respects…not to fight.”

  “How do you know why they’re here?” He shook off his friend’s grasp. “That’s the mistake we’ve been making—assuming they have human feelings, pretending that we understand them. They’re alien! We mustn’t forget that again.”

  Beloit walked unsteadily to join them. “Calm down Jasin…It’s Toberry. You’ve known him, all your life,” he said. His voice was strained and tired. Blood seeped fr
om beneath his bandage.

  “I thought I did,” Jasin muttered.

  Elizabeth reached over and tightened Beloit’s dressing. It had shifted and blood was now dripping down the side of his face, first traveling along the edge of his breathing scarf, then seeping deeper, becoming indistinguishable from the meita-stained cloth. “You really should be resting,” she scolded.

  The two natives approached under the scrutiny of the entire human assembly.

  Sy Lang spoke first. “We are here for Avram. He was a good man and we honor him on this sad day. We will leave shortly.”

  Sy Toberry said nothing. He refused to look at Jasin, who before rushing to his mother’s rescue had publicly berated the native for not protecting his mother.

  “Tell me again…” Jasin nearly spat the words out into Toberry’s face, “why you thought it perfectly all right to encourage Loeton to abduct my Mother. Tell me again because I don’t understand, because…” Jasin pointed at the grave. ”Because he trusted you. You were practically a member of our family. Make me understand.”

  It was Sy Lang that answered. “Sy Toberry did nothing wrong. It is our way. Sy Loeton was honor-bound. It was his duty and responsibility to take care of the wife whose adversary fell at his hand, whether it was an accident or not. It is one of our oldest and most sacred traditions. He did not want or need your mother, but no other course of action would have been acceptable.”

  “And now he can just send her back—honor fulfilled,” suggested Jasin.

  “He must take care of her.”

  “She doesn’t want to be taken care of, whatever that means in your twisted society. She’s not one of your females. You don’t have the right—”

  “No, young Elstrada, it is you that don’t have the right,” Sy Toberry interjected, finally breaking his silence. “You have no rights whatsoever. Don’t you understand? That is exactly what your father was trying to accomplish when he died. On this world, you are the visitors, the guests. You have only the rights that have been granted by the Council of Seventeen and since Sy Loeton sits on that council—”

  “Not for long,” Jasin interrupted, and turned to face Sy Lang. “Sy Loeton must be called to stand trial for his actions here and in Bistoun.”

  “Sy Loeton did not kill that female,” stated Sy Toberry emphatically. “You disgraced him last night. I know him.” The towan touched one of the scars on his chest.

  “You only think you know him. He may have been one of your Initiates, but I have seen the results of his actions here and in Bistoun.” Jasin turned to point at the half-filled grave. “He leaves death in his wake. You have a rogue on your sacred council. He is not fit to represent anyone.”

  “We don’t represent anyone,” argued Lang. “That is a human conceit, one of your fantasies. We serve on the Council because we are trusted and honored. Our opinions are valued. Loeton is honorable.”

  “Is mutilation honorable now? Is the murder of my father honorable? Is kidnapping the wife of the Human Caucus Leader, then running away, honorable? You have a monster on your Council. You say you come here out of respect for my father…then do more than just come and look at a pile of dirt; do more than tell me of your traditions. Call for an explanation; call for some answers. My father was right. If this conflict isn’t solved, it will put our races at each others throats.”

  “And then you shall all die,” stated Sy Toberry calmly, who turned and walked away.

  “Well, that’s a cheerful thought,” said Mas.

  “Jasin, your father was a special man,” Sy Lang continued. “For him, and for the peace between our people, I will see that the Council asks these questions of Sy Loeton. But you must be patient. Sy Toberry believes the Rhan-da-lith will occur in about twenty days. The Council does not reconvene until after that.” Lang turned and followed Toberry from the graveside.