Beast Master's Quest

by Andre Norton

  Laris looked sick. “How did anyone ever survive it?”

  “People are more durable than you’d believe,” Storm told her. And then to Prauo, whose eyes were wide with disgust, “Your people aren’t the first to start a stupid war, and they won’t be the last. Our people have a long history of that sort of idiocy, too. At least your kin seem to have been involved in one war only.”

  *If you don’t count the one they look to be currently planning?* Prauo sent.

  No one answered that, and the captain continued, “The war not only razed every major population center, it also began a cycle of mutations in the intelligent beings of this world.” He looked at Prauo. “From the murals, both races were in some sort of minor symbiosis already. The mutations strengthened that to an incredible degree. Within generations, cubs were appearing that needed to bond to a humanoid partner to develop. Those who found no liomsa as a partner didn’t become intelligent and died young.”

  Laris bit back a sudden gasp. In the circus where she’d been bond-servant to Dedran the Circus Master, she knew Dedran and one of his tame scientists had taken tissue samples from Prauo several times. From them they’d attempted to clone more of the big, intelligent felines. Subsequently, she’d overheard Dedran’s complaint that the clone offspring had died early without developing.

  It also explained Prauo. He’d bonded with her and the symbiosis had enabled his mental and physical development to proceed. Purple eyes met her own brown-eyed glance, and one of her aikiza’s eyes shut in a long wink as he sent to her alone: *Do you mind, my sister?*

  *No, but I wonder if we aren’t different. Your people had thousands of years to develop this system. Terrans weren’t born to it at all. Is our link the same, or something which only appears that way?*

  Their attention returned to the recording, as both pondered that question while the murals flowed past.

  “You can see from this section that somewhere along the way, possibly from part of an original virus, a mutation appeared which meant that gatherings larger than thirty to forty humanoids at most were dangerous to those who gathered. From what E’l’ith said, too many of her people too close together causes mental confusion and physical neurological pain.” Storm said.

  “This may be tied in somehow with the indications we received from T’s’ai, that the humanoids can communicate only via their aikizai. Symbiosis in other words. The humanoids spark intelligence in the aikizai, the aikizai allow them communication when apart and with other aikizai. The liomsa, however, have a form of definitely oral-based language which suggests that originally they did speak aloud, and in fact we have heard them do so, although Prauo cannot form words in any of the human languages.”

  Logan looked up at that. “So you believe that the aikizai have always been mute as to verbal language, while the liomsa originally spoke normally but are slowly losing that ability the longer they have aikizai?”

  Storm nodded. “Yes, I do. However, they appear to still have the ability, and if they begin trading with other worlds, I think they’ll go back to using spoken languages again as they need to.”

  “What about this business of not being able to meet in large groups? How would that work for a port city?”

  Storm shook his head. “I have no idea. But people are infinitely adaptable. If they’re determined to have trade and cities again, they’ll work out some variation which will allow that. Perhaps that they settle in sections, each with a certain physical distance between them. They would have a city; it would merely be more spread out than may be usual.”

  The recording had run to the last door and halted there, showing the beautifully inlaid engraved wood. Laris gathered her own thoughts and asked, “If Prauo is intelligent because he’s with me, what happens if we separate or I die? Does his intelligence stay at the current level, or does it start to slide down again without me?”

  They were all remembering one set of scenes in the mural now. One of the liomsa had been killed, and possible his friends and family were mourning his death before a grave. Beside the grave lay his aikiza, eyes shut in what seemed to be either utter resignation or an imminent death.

  Interpreted one way, it suggested that losing the other might leave his aikiza terminally depressed; interpreted a different way, it suggested an aikiza willed himself to die beside the grave, and there was one possible reason why that would be so. No intelligent being would greet the gradual, inexorable loss of his own intelligence with anything other than horror and very possibly a desire not to continue as a mindless beast.

  Logan reached out and patted Prauo. “Look, these people have been doing things the same way for hundreds of generations. But Laris isn’t one of the liomsa here. The bond between you could well be different. Didn’t you say that T’s’ai was surprised Laris could talk directly to him and his friends?” He waited for agreement—and receiving it, grinned.

  “There you are then. You two are different. Maybe more than they are with their pairs, or maybe the two of you are a new development, a further mutation. We can ask E’l’ith what happens to an aikiza when a liomsa dies. Then we can do some scientific study on your possible differences and if that’d apply to you two.”

  He forced a casual chuckle. “You both know our species, we don’t quit. I’m telling you, there’s no way any of us are going to let Prauo devolve—even if his people do and he wanted to. So that’s that. We’ve watched the recording, had our say. Isn’t it about time E’l’ith and Prauo’s kin showed up?”

  He hoped some of what he had said would reassure Laris. He’d noticed that increasingly she seemed to be under a strain and while he didn’t know why and didn’t like to ask, he thought it might have something to do with Prauo.

  Captain D’Argeis had been keeping one eye on the viewscreens. “They’re here.” He pointed to a screen showing several of the aikizai and their others waiting patiently in a seated group halfway between the forest and the ship.

  Storm stood up. “This time we’re all going but the captain. Tani, call the team. I’ll bring Ho and Hing. I want to find out exactly how they feel about beast teams as well as a number of other things.”

  He ushered them out ahead of him. This time they’d make a formal exit in force from the ship to greet Prauo’s kin.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Storm led the way toward the natives, Ho and Hing in the curve of one arm. Tani followed him. Mandy circling over her head while the coyotes, Minou and Ferrare, flanked her. Behind them walked Logan and Laris, with Prauo pacing between them. They reached the waiting group, spreading out into a half circle as they halted.

  They all recognized E’l’ith and her aikiza, Saaraoo, and assumed the female aikiza with them must be Prauo’s dam. Two other pairs retreated to the forest fringe and appeared to be sitting to wait. If the liomsa had a system that relayed what was being said here, presumably these were the ones who did that. But from the attitudes all this was to be formal—at least to begin the conversation.

  Storm gave a brief bow of respect. He’d try to communicate directly himself. That, too, should tell them something of how well his own beast-master abilities translated here. He reached out, mind-sending slowly and as clearly as he could.

  *I greet you all.*

  *Surprise, interest, welcome.*

  *With us come our spirit friends.* He’d always thought that the description the natives of Arzor, his homeworld, applied to the team beasts was appropriate—and true. He’d use that here. *Do you object to them in any way?*

  *Negative,* with underlying emotions of interest, amusement, and a suggestion of the willingness to like.

  *Will you introduce those with you?*

  At that he was a little confused to see all but the female and two aikizai rise to withdraw a few paces before sitting again. Perhaps it wasn’t the custom to introduce any who wouldn’t be speaking directly to them. Half-turning, he spoke quietly to his own group, “Everyone please sit down.” They obeyed and he turned back to those in front of t
hem, making it clear he was waiting for the introduction. It came.

  *E’l’ith, I; Saaraoo, he; Purrraal, she.*

  That was only the words; with and around them flowed indescribable hints of emotions, touch/tastes of personality. Brief flickers of pictures, including one longer one of the female, Purrraal, watching as a middle-aged man picked up a small cub and carried it away. With that came decision, a feeling that while the best thing was being permitted to occur, still the watcher felt mild regret and a deeper worry that what was done would not work out, a sort of bleak irritation that one of the kin might die very far from home, and alone.

  Storm could understand that. When they’d let Prauo be cast into space they’d gambled. Even now they couldn’t be sure how well that gamble had worked for them. He bent to place Ho and Hing on the short grass, reaching to touch them mentally with a suggestion. They should go to the friends before them.

  Hing, ever curious, and always the most friendly, promptly scurried forward to pat an aikiza with small, inquisitive paws. The breastplate that the aikiza wore on his harness was deeply incised with a small scene Storm could not make out clearly from where he stood. Hing seemed to like it, though, patting and admiring the gleam of wood and shell before trying carefully to detach it.

  The aikiza reacted with a sending of gentle amusement, then equally gentle but firm negation. Hing obeyed cheerfully, settling back to examine the breastplate where it was. E’l’ith turned from the scene to look back at Storm.

  *Spirit friends, not the animals of our world.* That was more statement than question, and from the underlying sending he understood she was commenting on the difference between the near mindless beasts of her own world and the half-intelligence of Ho and Hing.

  *Yes. Not Aikizai, but aikizai.* He could feel her register the difference in capital letter.

  *Agreement, approval, liking for these new small ones who could hear what was sent, and considerable curiosity about them. Were all like them on other worlds?*

  *No,” Storm sent. *They were genetically bred a long time ago to walk with us as small friends, to aid us in places where it was dangerous to walk alone.* He explained further until he was sure that those before him understood the long-ago process. They murmured among themselves but did not seem to find anything bad or wrong with the idea.

  Unconsciously, unused to those who could receive mind-send so clearly, Storm was adding pictures as he talked; of Ho in the earlier days, digging up wires that led to Xik-planted explosives; of both meerkats merrily committing sabotage that was to them only fun but which would save human lives; later images of Hing scrabbling at the gate lock that barred him from safety, of her clever claws opening that to set him free into a garden.

  Reading the sending as her aikiza passed it on. E’l’ith felt Storm’s deep grief when the first Ho was killed, Storm’s delight in his team, the bond that linked them, his joy when a new Ho joined Hing and the tribe of meerkats increased. More than ever, she decided, she would oppose the folly of T’s’ai and his smaller rebel group who rejected the many possibilities that could now come to their world from the stars.

  She sent a mind-call to the small creature and was pleased when it answered, pattering up to her to be stroked and scratched. The sensations it was sending of pleasure and uncomplicated friendship were good. She shared with her aikiza and felt his approval flow back to her. Her gaze rose to meet that of Storm.

  *Good, these are good. What of the others?*

  He pictured Mandy as she flew. *Eyes to see further over the land, a voice to speak what another sends from afar.* He showed her the coyotes. *Clever, cunning, they can harass an enemy.*

  He felt her query as to the meaning of that last, and showed her how once Minou and Ferrare had kept one of the dangerous great lizards of the Arzoran desert too occupied to kill the child they’d cornered. They’d kept the lizard busy while Storm readied his shot, and Mandy attacked from above to bring its head up so Storm could shoot at the unprotected throat. E’l’ith saw the reptile die and the child survive unharmed.

  From where he lay, Prauo uttered one of his chirps and both meerkats ran to him. He rolled over, patting at them with velvet paws while the small animals pounced and played. From his supine position he sent to E’l’ith and her aikiza.

  *They are my friends also. They can understand me. I can understand them. They would aid me if I asked.*

  At that moment Storm shut down his mind hard, stowing deep a thought which had come to him. He bit back a grin. It would stun Terran High Command, and the Survey Department as well. Wouldn’t these people, both the others and their aikizai, make wonderful beast masters if they chose to join the Terran Federation?

  He would say nothing of the thought to his friends and family here and now. Better to talk it over once they were all home again, and if they agreed, than Storm could take the possibilities to the authorities. It was possible that the liomsa would reject the idea, or that their aikizai would find it impossible to live in a concentration of humans—although Prauo seemed to have no problems. It would all have to be carefully considered, and he’d raise no false hopes or expectations too early.

  E’l’ith stood and moved back a pace. The humans and Prauo felt a complex communication sent and received as, lazily, the second aikiza stood to move forward toward Prauo.

  From the female aikiza came a clear sending: *Read what I show you, learn how you left us.*

  He rose to meet her, touching noses, breathing in deeply a scent that awakened memories. They were vague, blurred pictures, scents, sounds, and a sudden fear, an urge to use his claws and teeth, which urge had been calmed by the sending from that time.

  No words, only the touch/taste of reassurance: This was right.

  His question, a plea: Was she sure? Must he go?

  A definite affirmative, then reassurance, it would be well; he would find the one who would be to him mind and heart. Let him go in courage. Prauo recalled gathering himself, ceasing to whimper, and allowing himself to be carried away.

  Standing, touching him, his dam was taking from his memories all that he sent. Close kin could do this so that all unconsciously Prauo was both showing and telling, to all who were close enough to receive, what had been his fate.

  They saw the world swing as he was carried; felt his fear coupled with his desire to obey his dam’s last order. They felt his touching of the man’s mind; the one who carried him stroked the cub’s soft fur, sent liking, admiration of the colors and softness. The scenes jumped to contact. The cub reached out after weeks with the man when proximity had allowed the cub to find the right way to do this. They were two who should be one; they must touch minds.

  They felt the man’s frantic, horrified recoil as the cub tried again and again. He was an aikiza; he must reach his liomsa. They felt the growing nausea in the man, the utter rejection. The cub was carried from the ship, dumped unobtrusively on the waste ground beyond the concrete landing pads. Left by one who could not kill a small creature of which he had become fond, but neither could he ever accept what Prauo was—or that they should be together.

  Storm was picking up some of the tale himself and understanding what had happened. The spacer must have had vestigial beast-master abilities. Not enough to have been tested by the authorities and transferred to beast-master training—if the man had even been born on a human-settled world where that was done—but sufficient for the cub to activate the gifts when in close proximity for weeks.

  Storm had always known what he was and could do. The spacer must have been terrified, fearing he was going mad. No wonder he’d first rejected the cub, then, when the attempts continued, dumped him to escape that mental prying.

  For a long moment they all tasted the cub’s horror and despair. What had he done wrong to make his liomsa desert him? Prauo would die, forever cut off from his kin and their liomsa, alone, dying alone. The emotion was a scream of terror in his mind that forced from him small whimpering cries of distress and increasing misery, un
til—hours or even days later, he could not tell—he heard footsteps. He mind-sent then, desperately trying to draw in the one who approached.

  With Prauo, those who received the thoughts triggered by his dam’s sending heard the quickening pace toward him, felt the warm hands that cradled him, the soft sounds that spoke to his fear and soothed him. But more than anything else they felt the bonding begin as mind spoke to mind. Loneliness spoke to loneliness and was filled, lonely no more.

  E’l’ith sent strongly to all of them then, even as she stood up to touch the aikiza lightly across the shoulders. *We gambled, and see, richly have we been rewarded. Let T’s’ai and his kin step back; our choice is proven to be right.*

  From all those present in her group Storm felt agreement—although underneath there was surprise that the cub had been able to accept another after the attempts to bond with his first liomsa had failed. Storm waited to see who of the others would speak—but before anyone else could comment, Laris stood abruptly, her voice and sending passionate and furious.

  “You mean you let a cub be taken in the remote hope he’d find someone to bond to? It didn’t matter if he died alone and terrified, if he got put in a zoo and died slowly because he needed more than they could give him? The man who took him could have panicked and dumped Prauo out of the airlock!” Her mental picture of what that would have meant sent all of E’l’ith’s group recoiling. And to Purrraal, she sent directly, “You—you—animal! What kind of people send out a baby to die that way?”

  Ho and Hing scampered for the ship at Storm’s mental command. If this got as nasty as looked possible, he wouldn’t have them endangered. Mandy lifted up to swing in tight circles over the two groups, while the coyotes pulled back, closer to the ship but still able to attack at need or by order.

  Purrraal rose like lightning, moving towards Laris, her fur risen across her shoulders, her ears laid flat, while her lips peeled back to show her fangs.