“Do not hurry on our account, Khorii,” Aunt Neeva’s thought touched Khorii’s mind like a balm. It was so good to feel her there again. “Elviiz explained the situation to us, and you did well. You must rest before we set out again, but we can spare the time. The quarantine successfully contained the plague in many areas, and in those that were stricken, it seems to have run its course. No new outbreaks have been reported. We will need you to do a sweep with us soon to affirm that, but unless we hear differently from one of the other ships, our healing missions may be over. We may need fresh teams to help rebuild and restructure the societies on the stricken worlds, perhaps even improve that aspect of them, but many of us can go home.”
Khorii brightened, clapping her hands excitedly at the news. “I knew that! It was in my dream. I must have been picking it up from your thoughts as you landed. There was a wonderful party at home with my parents and everyone. I even dreamed I had a twin sister!”
“That would be startling news to your parents,” Aunt Neeva said with a smile in her thought. One without visible teeth, of course. Showing teeth, Khorii would have to remember when she went home, was considered hostile among the Linyaari. To show teeth meant “I’m thinking of biting you.”
“I had a good rest,” Khorii said. “I should be ready to go with you soon.”
She pulled on her shipsuit and slipped on the starscape bracelet Captain Bates had made for her so she could show it to Aunt Neeva and the others. Elviiz was waiting for her outside, but she found that hearing Aunt Neeva’s news had a restorative effect that, coupled with her sleep and the wonderful dream, made her feel downright frisky. She passed Elviiz and trotted down the hall so full of energy that a straight run was too tame for her, so she had to do pirouettes and leap up and try to touch the ceiling from time to time just for the joy of it. The dream wasn’t just a wish! It was going to come true very soon. She wondered if the poopuus could come for a holiday. Maybe what was left of their families on their old world could come, too. Their planet was dying. Other species had never been allowed on Vhiliinyar, but that was changing a little, now that her people had seen how good people like Uncle Hafiz and Captain Becker were. And so many Linyaari had come to the rescue of the plague-ridden planets—some of the most conservative of her people, who ordinarily would never leave their homeworld, had come to help. In the process they would no doubt have become less wary of other races, even the humanoid ones populating most of this galaxy.
She raced down toward the common room, but even before she reached it her mood changed abruptly. An overwhelming wave of fresh grief flooded through her. Entering, she saw the noon meal in progress and the room filled with youngsters and elders, many of whose faces were so mournful the emotions overflowed into tears. The younger children howled and shrilled demands for their mothers, fathers, or other loved ones, long since dead and buried.
Khorii sighed. Abuelita and her helpers, also sniffling, carried plates of cinnamony churros from table to table, calming a slender path through the cacophony. Khorii met Jalonzo’s grandmother in the middle of the room, when her plate was empty. “What brought this on?” she asked, having no wish to try probing all of these chaotic minds.
“Last night three of the niños saw their mothers, two saw their fathers and Concepcion Mendez saw her daughter, Anunciata, who left behind three children. Two died but the other, little Elena, saw her mother, too. Anunciata and all of the others have been dead since before you arrived, Khorii, and are buried in the square with the others.”
“Why would they all dream the same thing in the same night?” Khorii asked, looking around.
“They swear, Concepcion as well as the children, that it was no dream that woke them, but truly their lost ones. No sooner had each of them awakened than the dead relative left them. Concepcion, who was a schoolmate of mine and, I tell you, lacks all imagination, was so convinced she saw her daughter that she grabbed her cane and pursued the girl, convinced a miracle had occurred.
“But the girl did not look back and did not wait and disappeared down the street.”
“Did any of the children try to follow their parents?”
Abuelita nodded. “But none turned back for them or spoke a word. If they were ghosts, it was cruel to return and remind people of what they’ve lost, especially the little ones. The young forget and get on with life quickly if allowed. But deep down, they still grieve and are confused, and these wraiths or dreams or whatever they were resurrected that.”
It was a good thing Khorii was telepathic because if she had not been, she would have missed much of what Abuelita said. In some areas the wails gave way to sniffles, but other sections of the room were as loud as ever.
“Is that why they were all crying?” Khorii asked. “Why? When only six people saw the dead?”
“You are too young to know about children, and perhaps children of your people do not behave the same way, but generally when one starts crying, all of the others follow suit. Me, I am near tears myself.”
Khiindi, who might have comforted the children, instead circled Khorii, meowing anxiously up at her, as if demanding to know what she intended to do about this.
Elviiz stood in the doorway from the dormitories looking puzzled. And then, to Khorii’s intense relief, four tall white figures with silvery manes and shining horns like her own entered from the street.
Neeva, Melireenya, Khaari, and a young male Khorii had seen before but did not know well, took in the scene. Almost at once, the remaining howls and wails descended into sobs, sniffles, and in a matter of seconds, to smiles and chatter once more.
“How did you do that?” Khorii asked Neeva.
“You still have much to learn about using your telepathic powers,” Neeva replied.
“And it helps that there are now five of us,” the young male added, as Khorii began to feel that she should have less time quizzing Abuelita and more time comforting the children.
Even Khiindi had found a lap to purr on.
“I have to learn to do that,” Khorii told the other Linyaari. “It would have been useful so often before.”
“It’s as well that you did not,” Neeva said. “We need you to come back out with us and confirm that the plague has died out in some areas of its own accord. Once we know for sure, we can make plans for restoration and for our own return home.”
“These yaazis think they saw their dead parents?” the Linyaari boy asked. “Don’t they know that spirits do not return to the same bodies and lead the same lives, but are reborn as foals to begin again?”
“All cultures do not believe as we do, Mikaaye,” Melireenya said, then Khorii remembered who he was. This was Melireenya’s son. He had been on narhii-Vhiliinyar with his father, helping shape a new and less exclusive Linyaari society.
Khorii joined them at one of the tables near the door. Now that the children were done crying, they were curious about the newcomers. By now they knew Khorii, but they had not seen so many Linyaari all together. And the calming influence the newcomers had sent to soothe them let the children know they were not only approachable, but in control. Several came up to the table with practiced grimaces, showing off scratches or scrapes and asking for healing. One enterprising little girl ran out to the grassy strip between the building and the sidewalk and picked a handful of grass she offered to Neeva, who accepted it graciously but did not actually eat any.
“Odd things have been happening here,” Khorii told the other Linyaari. “I don’t think I should leave here. They need me.”
“We all need you, yaazi,” Melireenya said.
Sesseli burst through the dormitory door and ran to Khorii. “You’re not going to leave now, are you? I don’t want you to go!”
“Shush, Sess, you’ll make all the babies cry again,” Khorii said, hugging her. “I’ll be back, but my relatives think the plague may be ending, and they need me to make sure. You know I’m the only one who can do that.”
“Yes, but who will take care of all the little
children if they get hurt or sick again?” Sesseli asked. She didn’t mention that, with Khorii and Khiindi gone, she would feel lost, too.
“Abuelita will need you to help her, and Captain Bates might need help teaching the children about the beads and sewing.”
“And I will need you to teach me everybody’s name and where everything is,” Mikaaye said. “Because you are right, of course. Someone must stay and look after the injuries and illnesses among your people. I cannot see the plague as Khorii can, but I can do all of the other things, so I will stay to help you. I am Mikaaye.”
Sesseli composed her face and stuck out her small, soft hand. “I am Sesseli, Mikaaye. Do you have a kitty?”
Chapter 5
Paloduro and its sibling planets, Rio Boca and Dinero Grande, had been stricken with the plague before it spread via Federation and private vessels to other worlds. “We’ll start our sweep with the last incidences of infection,” Neeva said. “If it remains virulent there, then we’ll decide what to do next.”
To save the energy of their horns for healing, the Linyaari rescue teams conducted all routine conversation verbally, saving their energy-demanding thought-talk for more urgent matters or for far-distant communication that could not be conducted any other means.
“Good plan,” Khorii agreed. Nobody treated her like a youngling on these missions. She had a say in what happened, and her abilities were respected. She was a full-fledged team member.
“So. Kezdet and its moons.”
“Do you know if Maganos Moonbase ever pulled in the supplies we off-loaded for them?” Khorii asked. “Even though we told them I’d decontaminated everything, the man running the school for my grandfathers said they couldn’t risk it. He was willing to let Jaya die up there despite having supplies they needed.”
“He was clearly new to our ways,” Neeva said with a wry smile. “But yes, the supplies were collected unofficially by several of the more enterprising students. I understand the administrator attempted to expel them for their efforts, but your grandfathers and Uncle Hafiz overruled that. I understand the administrator in question is still on Maganos but will be seeking other employment once quarantine is lifted.”
“Good,” Khorii said.
“Yes,” Elviiz said. “It seemed strange to me that the head of the school possessed an intellect well below that of the majority of the students.”
“We need to check the water supplies and sewers, too,” Khorii said. “Elviiz thought of it when we were on Dinero Grande. If they are contaminated with the plague, the people and creatures who depend on them may contract the disease that way or become reinfected.”
“Yes, dear, but even without the benefit of Elviiz’s advice, our decontamination teams have been doing that. However, it is a good idea if you check them for latent evidence as well.”
“Aunt Neeva,” Elviiz said, “have your teams performed this task in rural and outlying areas as well as the population centers? The waterways of Dinero Grande near the mansions were contaminated by the private wells in the area. The cleansing processes used for waste disposal were inadequate to eradicate the plague organisms also.”
“We’ll double-check with the teams about that, Elviiz, but I think they covered it.”
The trip from Paloduro to Kezdet was quite different from the one Khorii had made in the opposite direction aboard the Mana. The Balakiire saw no derelicts; nor did they receive any distress calls. On the other hand, the official Federation vessels that once patrolled the spaceways were notably absent along their route.
The Balakiire received frequent hails from other Linyaari vessels—more than Khorii had realized her people possessed. All teams were reporting that the plague seemed contained at last and that the last new outbreak had occurred over a Standard week ago. Elviiz voiced his concerns about the rural water and sewage systems to the teams, and if they had not already addressed the issue, they promised to do so at once.
“It’s odd how it’s just gone away, isn’t it?” Khorii asked.
Neeva shrugged. “Perhaps the causative organism has a limited life span and without a live host, dies.”
“I guess that must be it,” Khorii agreed, but she remained worried about it. After all of the death and suffering, it seemed strange that the disease had suddenly and inexplicably ceased.
When Khorii’s mother, Acorna, first came to Kezdet, no one had ever seen a being like her before. Now, when the Balakiire docked at the planet’s main port, five other brightly decorated egg-shaped vessels nestled in newly retooled berths beside her. The white-skinned, silver-maned Linyaari rescuers were as prominent in the city and on the planet at large as once the Federation forces had been. The healthy young adults among the galaxy’s peacekeepers had been among the first to succumb to the plague, crippling communications and relief efforts and impeding the implementation and enforcement of the quarantine.
“We’ll take a flitter to the Nanobug Market,” Neeva told her. She had to use thought-talk because she could not pronounce some of the names. Linyaari, who had grown up speaking only their own tongue, had a terrible time pronouncing Standard words. Khorii had been indoctrinated into Standard from babyhood by Elviiz, so other than a slight lilt to her speech, she sounded much like other Standard speakers from Kezdet. That was where Maak and Uncle Joh came from, and they had the accent of that world.
A paved flat area at the front of the space terminal was full of flitters of every description. Melireenya selected a roomy one to accommodate the entire team, number 365. “We organized teams of the older survivors to bring decontaminated abandoned flitters here. The numbers correspond to a computer record stating where each was found and, if the vehicle had contained one, a holoprint of the victim’s face and where each was interred. Later, perhaps, the survivors of the owners may wish to reclaim some of the vehicles, but now most of them are too young to fly.”
“You kept very good records.”
“Liriili was in charge of that. Yours is not the only special talent that has come to the fore with this crisis. She also discovered, especially among the remaining human elders, assistants nearly as—there is a Standard phrase Captain Becker employs?”
“Nitpicking?” Khorii suggested.
“That’s the one.”
Liriili was the former administrator of narhii-Vhiliinyar, much disliked, or at least less beloved than most, for her fault finding and superior attitude. It wasn’t entirely her fault. She was empathy-impaired. But Aunt Maati, who had been Liriili’s page as a youngling, could barely stand her, even though Liriili had been rebuked and chastised by the Council and was somewhat easier to get along with than she had been. Meticulous recordkeeping was just what Liriili would do well, along with supervising others as detail-oriented as she was, especially if they also shared her lack of empathy, which would make cataloging the dead a bit easier, Khorii supposed.
Uncle Joh had spoken of the Nanobug Market of Kezdet with great enthusiasm. Before undertaking his many lucrative private contracts with House Harakamian, the salvage and recycling tycoon, as the Condor’s captain liked to think of himself, had ended each voyage by setting up a kiosk at the market to display and advertise his scavenged merchandise. He had described in detail the many types of food available, of which to Khorii only the floral arrangements sounded appetizing. Toys, exotic clothing, gemstones from many worlds, animals and plants of all descriptions, household items appropriate to many colonies from the most primitive to the most technical, and billions of other useful or interesting objects.
And those, Uncle Joh would say, were just the legal ones! In the old days, the market had contained a slave market as well, where child slaves and adults who had grown up as slaves were bought and sold. Also, he said that females and some males, many of them slaves, who would mate indiscriminately for a price could be hired there.
You could also buy stolen goods, black-market pharmaceuticals, forged documents and currency, and pieces of Federation uniforms for the illegal impersonation
of law enforcement personnel.
Dancers, jugglers, acrobats, fire eaters, magicians, people who could create a custom hologram on the spot, strolling interpreters to help with any possible language barriers and others to write letters of business or to prospective mates for a price. Some would even compose and read literary creations amid the bustling crowds.
Uncle Joh had promised to take Khorii and Elviiz with him during their visit to Maganos Moonbase, which was close to Kezdet. Khorii had been greatly looking forward to it.
What a disappointment!
The flitter approached vast fields of what could have been Linyaari pavilions, tentlike structures but in many sizes, shapes, and colors. Most were shuttered, many were ripped or partly disassembled. Weeds grew waist high among them, all but obscuring the paths of loose gravel connecting them. The Linyaari presence had long ago dissipated any lingering odors. Hillocks here and there, Neeva told her, were where beasts stricken by the disease had been buried where they fell. Walking through the maze of weeds, rickety tables, splintered poles, and ripped tents, Khorii felt a great sadness but saw none of the blue plague dots dancing before her eyes.
“I believe it would be safe to graze here,” she said tentatively.
“That would be a great help for our people still working here,” Khaari said. “We could hardly decontaminate every specimen of plant life growing here, and there are so few fertile areas on this world.”
The live part of the market now was a place where survivors who had been separated from loved ones at the time the plague struck came seeking word of them. A huge tent contained wall after wall of photographs of the known dead on one side, and those being sought by survivors on the other. Children circulated among the crowd of other children and elders with handheld units linking to a central computer bank. It contained data collected by Liriili’s people cataloging the dead by photograph, location, and identifying information or possessions with them when the bodies were collected. In most cases, it also had information as to where the bodies were buried.
Second Wave Page 5
