by Phil Geusz
this!"
He came dashing over. In the bottom of the case were half a dozen more rifles and four handgun sleeves. There was a note attached to one of the rifles, and I snatched it up. "You're growing up fast, boys," it read in Dad's handwriting. "Soon you'll need bigger and better guns. These were all I could dig up on short notice. I'm so terribly sorry that I can't be there to teach you how to use them." Our eyes met in disbelief—guns were one of the costliest items anywhere these days, the supply being as short as it was, and it looked as if he'd nearly emptied his own cabinet for us.
Mom did sort of the same thing, in her own way. She'd stayed up all night making her special corn dodgers and chocolate chip cookies for us. Tim and I agreed they were the best food anywhere on the planet, though he had more of a taste for the cookies while I favored the sweet, crunchy cornbread. Before we even began packing, we found pounds and pounds of the things wrapped tightly in plastic and spread out among the containers in such a way that even if some were lost the rest would make it. "Think of me when you eat these," her note read, "as I shall constantly think of you. Always be proud of who and what you are. That's all I'll ever ask."
I wasn't sure whether these parting gifts and notes made things easier for us, as they were probably intended to do, or harder. But they were obviously important to Mom and Dad, so we wiped our eyes on our sleeves before the guards noticed we were crying again and got on with business.
When we were done, we'd practically emptied our rooms to the wallpaper. Only the furniture, sheets, and curtains remained. I felt terribly empty inside, and so must've Tim because before I knew it he and I were hugging each other. It was pretty weird, and not at all the sort of thing we normally did.
"This is awful," he whispered in my ear.
"Yeah," I agreed. "I don't want to go either. But we gotta. They say it's important." Then we released each other, tugged the ill-fitting and hated red robes into place, and practically marched back to the living room.
We were much earlier than expected, it seemed, because there was no one there to meet us except a short, thickset, and extremely muscular Asian man sitting bolt upright on our couch with a large suitcase at his feet. For an instant, he glanced our way and his eyes widened.
Tim and I were accustomed to unexplained strangers showing up at our house, what with Dad being a congressman and all. Because our situation was so unusual due to his job, our father had explained to us a long time ago, the normal rules about not talking to strangers and such didn't apply so strongly to us. "If you see someone waiting for me," he'd said, "please, go out of your way to be nice to them. While they may just want to talk about the usual political nonsense, you pretty much already know everyone in that crowd. If they're a stranger, then more likely than not they're a constituent with a problem. It's my most important job to take the best care I can of that kind of visitor, and you can help me best by showing you care about them too." So it wasn't surprising that both of us smiled and spoke up practically at the same second.
"Hi!" I said.
"We're Tim and Robert," my brother added. "Congressman Byrd's sons. Can we get you something to eat or drink?"
The man turned to face us again, his eyes as blank and cold as the barrels of a side-by-side shotgun. Then, very slightly, he smiled. "My name is Li, and it's a great pleasure to meet you both." He bowed his head, and so powerful was his sense of presence that our necks bent in reply. "However, while my pleasure is sincere, it's my guess that certain others intended we be introduced more formally. It might be wise, therefore, for us to pretend we've never met."
I pursed my lips. "How could it matter when and how we meet?"
"I'm not entirely certain that it will," he replied, still smiling. "Yet in a situation dominated by unknown variables it's best to cede as much control as possible to those of the highest status."
Tim and I looked at each other, confused. Then we turned back to Mr. Li. "So, we should go somewhere else and pretend we never saw you?"
"It'd be wisest, I judge," our guest replied, again half-bowing from his still-seated position. His English was perfect and carried a Midwestern accent. Yet, there also seemed to be something deeply foreign about him.
"Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "There's coffee in the kitchen. And tea as well, if you drink it. Dad loves green tea."
"I know," he replied. "I'm the one who first introduced him to it, and I still send him a box every year at Christmas." He smiled again. "I'll be fine waiting here, thank you. Run along, and don't waste your last moments at home on hospitality. This time is yours and no one else's. Use it as best you can."
6
After that we went out to the stables to say goodbye to the horses and Patch the cat, whose job consisted entirely of keeping the horse's quarters rodent-free. We didn't have any dogs because Mom was allergic, so Patch was our best animal-friend. Then we went to the bunkhouse to say goodbye to the help. Some of them had lived on the ranch longer than us and were almost like aunts and uncles. But they were all out working, so we wrote a note saying we'd miss them and left things at that. By then we were expected back in the kitchen to meet Rapput and, we guessed, fly away to wherever it was that our new life was going to be. I clenched my hands into fists at the thought then looked down and saw Tim had paralleled both my thoughts and action. "Come on," he said. "Let's get this over with.
Everyone was assembled in the kitchen, waiting for us. At first I was afraid we'd be in trouble for being late, but the clock ticked off the last second just as we stepped in.
Rapput nodded. "Excellent! You're both perfectly on time. A good omen."
"How was the hunting?" Tim asked, looking at Dad.
"Excellent!" Rapput replied for him, nodding at a pile of small field-dressed carcasses lying on the butcher-block awaiting further processing. "Your rabbits are a remarkable quarry indeed! While we of course have ecological analogs, none move half so swiftly or cunningly. Among our kind it's a shameful thing to take an herbivore as a totem, yet here it's commonplace. I begin to see why. Even your lowliest game species are possessed of hidden virtues." He smiled again. "When asking about the success of a hunt—or for that matter, any topic involving bloodshed—one should always first address the highest blood-ranking participant present. To do otherwise is grossly impolite."
I looked at Dad, whose face once more was hard and cold. "We won't do it again," I promised.
Rapput nodded, satisfied. "A child must learn all things, and I imagine it's even more difficult for an adoptee. Your errors are both inevitable and eminently forgivable. Continue to strive to improve and all will be well." He smiled again, but I felt all funny inside even though I wasn't sure quite why.
"Now," Rapput continued, "allow me to make an introduction." He pointed to Mr. Li. "Boys, meet your new coach. Mr. Li, allow me to present your sacred charges, Nobleyouths Robertherman Gonther and Timothyscott Gonther."
Mr. Li nodded soberly, and I realized he'd been right about pretending we hadn't met. To do otherwise would have—however slightly—diminished Rapput, and already it was growing obvious this wasn't a Good Thing.
Rapput turned to Dad. "Mr. Li was chosen from tens of thousands of other potential coaches and drafted to serve as a physical fitness instructor and educational consultant. We Artemu as yet have little idea of what to expect from human children in terms of physical limits and capabilities, you see. Mr. Li is a well-known authority on the matter. He once won a silver medal in your Olympic games as a wrestler."
Mr. Li bowed deeply. "I'm honored to be called upon to serve in such an important cause."
Rapput smiled again. "Far too few humans are so open-minded and cooperative, at least as of yet. Perhaps in time, if we all work together, we'll be able to change that. In the meantime, I hereby declare that as of this moment you're under the protection of the House of Gonther. Upon arrival on the homeworld you'll be assigned quarters, privileges, and rations equivalent to those awarded our highest-ranking and most beloved slaves. Th
is is no mean allotment, I assure you." He bowed again then turned to Mom. "Human mothers, I'm informed, tend to coddle and infantilize their young to a remarkably advanced age. Perhaps it'll relieve your maternal passions somewhat to know that a fellow human will be present to advise us regarding your offspring's physical limitations?" He smiled awkwardly—Artemesians were always knocked a little off their stride when addressing females because their own weren't sentient.
Mom blinked. Then her face grew hard and angular in a way I hadn't seen since Tim had accidentally fired a twenty-gauge slug through my bedroom window while I was making faces at him from the other side of the glass. "Greatly relieved, sir," was all she said.
"Excellent!" Rapput replied, not picking up on her anger at all. Then he turned to Dad. "Mr. Li is well qualified for his role. We employed your finest people to assist us in the search."
Our father nodded. Then he looked at Li before meeting Tim's and my own eyes. He seemed to be trying to communicate more than his words alone contained. "He's the finest man available for this particular job, I'm quite certain. I've looked into his background. Perhaps he'll be able to advise you regarding the boys' academic development as well. After all, he holds three doctorates." Then he turned to Li. "Sir, I'm deeply grateful to
