by David Weber
Old Authority was there, along with several of his clan. Also present was Garbage Collector, as the People now called the father of Bleached Fur. This title was in memory of how Garbage Collector had gathered up the People’s leavings and stood guard over them, even in the face of a hungry whistling sucker. Garbage Collector had brought his clan, as well, and Dirt Grubber had been particularly pleased to see Plant Woman and Image Maker, whose mind-glows he had found to be very compatible with his own.
Then there were the group he had seen arrive on a flying thing similar to that which had taken Climbs Quickly, Death Fang’s Bane, and Shadowed Sunlight away. Many of these came and spoke with Windswept. He noticed she was careful to be very polite with them, but this was not the politeness of respect but that of being guarded.
Dirt Grubber could not read the mind-glows of all two-legs as easily as he could that of Windswept, but he would need to be far stupider than he was not to realize that one thing many of these two-legs had in common was an intense interest in the People. He had become accustomed to having two-legs stare at him when he went somewhere with Windswept. He had learned to be polite about the attention and, in turn, most of the two-legs were relatively good about keeping their distance. Tonight, however, was different. There was an intensity in the mind-glows of almost everyone who came near, as if—if they were given the opportunity—they would have counted his fingers and toes, checked the depth of his fur, fingered his ears.
That was uncomfortable. It was nothing, however, compared to the cold, hard assessment he had felt from a few. Reaching into his memory, Dirt Grubber compared what he was feeling to what Climbs Quickly had told him about his encounter with Speaks Falsely. There were some similarities, but the mind-glows were not the same. Speaks Falsely’s mind-glow had been colored by a willingness to do harm. Dirt Grubber had not felt that sort of willingness from any he had encountered that evening. But what some of these did have in common with Speaks Falsely was a sense that they were holding back, calculating. Pretending to have one interest when what they really wanted was something else.
People did not speak falsely. They could withhold information, but they did not say or think things they knew were not true, nor could one Person deceive another about what he truly desired. Two-legs could deceive one another, but it was hard for Dirt Grubber to wrap his mind around such twisted thinking.
He was also aware that he had not spent time with all the two-legs present. Windswept had spoken mostly with those who had first initiated contact. He had sensed a few malicious breezes from the minds of some who had kept their distance, but that was not unusual. He already knew that not all two-legs liked the People. Sometimes what he tasted from them almost felt like tension over territory or a particularly succulent bit of food. He thought they saw the People as competition.
Reluctantly, Dirt Grubber decided he must do his best to learn more about these new arrivals. From Windswept’s mind-glow, he could tell she expected to meet them again. For the good of the People, Dirt Grubber must try to make the most of those encounters.
Chapter Nine
The morning after the meet-and-greet, Anders felt tense. He might not be a treecat, but he was enough his politician mother’s son to feel uneasy about the hidden agendas he’d sensed the night before.
Sure, he’d expected some tension. However chastened his dad might be, he was still as protective of his permit as the mother of a newborn baby. What Anders hadn’t expected was how, well, political Dr. Radzinsky had been. He’d overheard her talking with Chief Ranger Shelton. From her questions, it was apparent that she had far more knowledge than he would have expected from an off-worlder about the implications treecat sentience could have for Sphinxian land ownership.
He didn’t want to make Stephanie edgy. Her messages were full of how demanding she was finding her classes. He didn’t doubt that she was doing great—Stephanie really was as smart as everyone thought she was—but she was working harder for those perfect grades than she ever had before. And she was so hard on herself when she did mess up. Weeks later, she was still beating herself up over some minor gaffe in forensics class.
Still, he had to let her know something was rotten on the planet Sphinx, so he gave her a quick summary. Then he went on:
“I let Christine and Chet know I thought Radzinsky, at least, has an agenda, and they’re planning to keep a special eye on her—including making notes of those times when she wants them out of the way. Meanwhile, Jess will see how many of the x-a’s we can meet in small groups. She thinks Valiant will be able to get a better read on them that way. I think it will be interesting to see just who doesn’t want to spend time in a small group with a treecat, too.
“Listen, Steph. I’d really like to keep an eye on Jess and Valiant. I’ve got this idea, though, that she thinks she’d be imposing. Could you message her, tell her it would be good to have me along? I know what my dad is capable of and—hard as it may be for you to believe—he’s actually really ethical. He’d never cook his data or anything. I’m not so sure about some of the others.
“I’ll cover things here for you. You study hard. That’s why I let you out of my reach, right? Say, hi to Karl and tell Lionheart I’m saving part of my allowance to buy him a bouquet of celery when he gets back.”
He mimed giving her a big hug. “Miss you!”
* * *
Climbs Quickly stretched out along the smooth, rocky shelf outside the nesting place they had given Death Fang’s Bane and panted quietly. The sun was unnaturally hot, burning down out of a sky which wasn’t quite the right shade of blue, and he found himself wishing he had had some warning about just how warm this new place, this new world, was going to be. At least Death Fang’s Bane’s nesting place’s window faced toward sun-rising, so the bulk of the structure threw a welcome patch of shade over this shelf each afternoon. For that matter, things in general had improved since he’d started shedding, and he could always retreat to the coolness of Death Fang’s Bane’s sleeping place. But it was still hotter here—even in the shade—than any of the people could ever have anticipated.
He disliked being separated from his two-leg so much of the time. She did not like it either; he could tell that from her mind-glow, even when she was far away. She had made it clear enough that she had no choice, however, and Climbs Quickly had learned more than enough about how the two-legs’ clans worked to understand that neither Death Fang’s Bane nor her parents could always arrange things the way they might wish to. The two-legs’ elders clearly had a great deal to say about how all two-legs lived their lives, and he had discovered that Sings Truly’s warning that it was important for the People to understand how these strange creatures thought had been even better taken than he had thought at the time.
Still, it would help me to understand them better if I could accompany Death Fang’s Bane more places, he reflected, flattening even closer to the cool, shaded shelf. It helps that she is so happy to be learning so many things—it is like watching a kitten scamper down a ground runner’s burrow! Yet I know she misses Bleached Fur, and she feels guilty about leaving me so much to my own devices.
He treated himself to a quiet mental laugh at that thought, for he was confident few of the older two-legs realized what sorts of opportunities this nesting place offered to one of the People. Death Fang’s Bane did, although she had done her very best to warn him about being careless. It had amused him, for even though their inability to communicate clearly with one another remained frustrating, she had reminded him irresistibly of old Broken Foot, the half-crippled scout who had been entrusted with teaching Climbs Quickly and his fellow kittens about the perils of the world. Of course, that had been more hands of turnings ago than Climbs Quickly really cared to think about, but the message had been clear enough. And so had the fact that Death Fang’s Bane had been fairly sure she was not supposed to be encouraging him to roam.
It was a long way from this ledge to the nearest of the strange trees growing in this place, but no
t so far that a healthy scout could not make the leap between them, especially when he seemed to weigh so much less than he was accustomed to. And even though he knew Death Fang’s Bane worried about him whenever he was out on his own, she also understood that he was a scout of the People. She might not like it, and he had sensed her concern about the sorts of trouble he might find to get into in this world which was so different from his own, but she had not attempted to lock him up here in her nesting place. Instead, she had trusted him not to get into trouble and he had not. For all his sister’s and Broken Tooth’s lectures about impetuosity, he was not really heedless enough to take foolish chances. So his explorations had been cautious, largely under cover of night, and more for his own amusement and to defeat boredom than anything else, when he came down to it.
Now he rolled back over, ears twitching as he sensed Death Fang’s Bane’s mind-glow coming back towards her nesting place. Her mind was already reaching out to him, despite the fact that she had no idea what she was doing or how, and the inner warmth of that touch flowed through him like a welcome sigh of wind creeping delicately through the leaves of Bright Water’s central nesting place.
* * *
Anders didn’t know exactly what Stephanie said to convince Jessica, but about a week after the meet-and-greet, after she’d brought Valiant along to solemnly consider the Whitaker expedition’s latest collection of treecat artifacts, she asked him if he’d go with her the next day when she had a private interview with Dr. Hidalgo.
“I’d really appreciate your coming,” Jessica said as he walked back to her air car with her. “He’s the one whose area of specialization is like your dad’s right? Would he mind? And should I get his permission first—because of the retainer, and everything?”
“You mean, would Dad think I was consorting with the enemy or something?” Anders laughed. “Not really. He’d probably be grateful, actually—give him an idea of how the other side is thinking. And that retainer’s really just to reimburse you for the time you’re spending helping him out. It doesn’t mean you can’t help anyone else, you know.”
Although, he reflected, knowing his dad as he did, Dr. Whitaker wouldn’t object if Jessica thought it did.
“Great! Thanks. I’m a little nervous. This is going to be my first interview with one of the big guns.”
“You’re kidding! I thought you’d had a bunch of meetings already.”
“I’ve had a couple,” Jessica admitted, “but they’ve been with some of the assistants. That Gretta Grendelson—the one who wanted to pet Valiant at the shuttleport—we’ve had a couple of meetings, but she’s more a biologist than an anthropologist. She’s really interested in things like the treecats’ tails—how they are prehensile and how the gripping surface is designed.”
“Did Valiant like being poked?”
“Actually, he was pretty good about it. I got the feeling he’s neutral about Gretta.”
Anders frowned. “That sounds sort of like you’ve met with someone you don’t think he’s neutral about.”
“You sound,” Jessica giggled, “like an anthropologist. You’re right, though…. One time Gretta brought along one of Doctor Radzinsky’s other assistants—a man named Duff DeWitt.”
Anders searched his memory. “I think I’ve talked with him. Good-looking guy, blond hair, looks like he lifts weights?”
Did Jessica blush?
“That’s him. He had lots of questions about treecat behavior.”
“You said you thought Valiant didn’t like him.”
Yes, she was blushing.
“Well, yeah…Mr. DeWitt is…I mean, he likes…He’s sort of a flirt. Gretta thought it was great, but how he talked made me uncomfortable.”
Anders snorted. “You’re really pretty, Jessica. It doesn’t seem strange to me that he’d flirt with you.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “It was more than that. He was the sort that made me feel like he flirted by reflex. He knows he’s good looking, so he sees where that might get him.”
“And you think Valiant didn’t like that.”
“I think it’s as good an explanation as any as to why Valiant was obviously uneasy with him. I messaged Stephanie, and she agreed the treecats don’t seem to like insincerity.”
“Neither does Stephanie.” Anders laughed. “Anyhow, I’d be glad to go with you when you meet with Dr. Hidalgo. When is your appointment?”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
Anders shook his head. “What time?”
“Mid-morning,” Jessica replied as they reached her parked air car.” We’re supposed to meet in one of the conference rooms at their hotel. Do you need a lift?”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Anders said. “The expedition’s air car’s been a lot more in demand since the x-a’s got here and not everyone is going out to the site every day.”
“Great! See you then!”
* * *
Anders was right in his prediction that Doctor Whitaker would approve of his son going along for the meeting with Dr. Hidalgo.
“He’s very good,” was the reluctant admission. “He really appreciated my artifact collection. In fact, I think he’s the closest of the three senior members of the group to coming around to accepting that the treecats should be placed somewhere on the sentience scale.”
“Somewhere? Human somewhere?”
“Oh, probably not.” Doctor Whitaker waved a dismissive hand. “I’d like to see what conclusions you reach about him.”
“So you’re not going to contaminate the sample further.” Anders laughed. “Okay, Dad. I’ll let you know what I think.”
The next morning when Jessica picked him up, he asked, “Does Dr. Hidalgo know I’m coming along?”
“Yep. I told him I might need a translator who spoke anthropologist.”
“And he didn’t have any problems?”
“Not that I could see. Actually, he said some good things about your dad’s collections.”
Dr. Hidalgo had folded his long, thin length down into a chair at one end of the conference room, but he unfolded himself as soon as they entered. “Good morning and thank you both for coming, it’s—” He stopped, shook his head, and corrected himself. "Thank you all for coming."
Anders wondered who’d been omitted in that first greeting—himself or Valiant—but he didn’t think asking would be polite.
Dr. Hidalgo continued, this time addressing Jessica in particular. “I believe Valiant is a gardener. Would he be more comfortable if we went outside for our meeting? This complex has some very nice gardens, and they’re just about empty this time of day.”
Jessica beamed at him. “He’d like that. Besides, I think he finds indoor heating a little uncomfortable this time of year. His coat’s been thickening since the nights started getting cooler.”
“And how do you cope with that?” Dr. Hidalgo asked as he waved toward a door that led out into the promised gardens.
“Well, he always has the freedom to go outside, and I keep my own room cooler. I don’t mind wearing a sweater. My family got here in summer, so I haven’t actually lived through the winter, but I’ve heard a lot from my friends. I think Valiant’s going to need as dense a coat as possible when the snows fly.”
“Very thoughtful.” Doctor Hidalgo nodded approval.
Anders thought though that the x-a had arrived at a slightly different conclusion than his words might lead one to imagine. He glanced at Valiant, trying to see with the treecat was thinking, but Valiant was busy stretching up from his perch on Jessica’s shoulder so that he could inspect a vine that had been trained along a nearby trellis without damaging the plant.
Doctor Hidalgo’s questions followed a predictable pattern. He asked about Valiant’s carry net and whether he had made it himself. He asked about the other tools Valiant used, and how easily he adapted to human technology—both those things he could employ himself, like the sample bags, and those things he used indirectly, such as riding in an air car.
Eventu
ally, they arrived at a neat little gazebo, furnished with tables and benches. When they settled there, Doctor Hidalgo asked Jessica if Valiant would mind showing off some of his basic skills, like tying knots or handling various tools. The swiftness with which Valiant agreed told Anders even without the “thumbs up” Jessica gave him that the treecat found nothing threatening about this particular member of the x-a group.
Jessica obviously liked Doctor Hidalgo, too. Anders had to admit that there was something charming about the way he’d tug at one of his jug-handle ears and murmur, “Amazing!” or “It’s different to see it in person rather than recorded.” He always asked for permission before recording a particular action, too, never simply assuming that permission previously given flowed over to the next.
When they’d been in the gazebo a while, Doctor Hidalgo announced, “I think we all deserve a break. Shall I call and order some refreshments? Perhaps lunch?”
They agreed and not long after, as they sat munching on sandwiches piled high on thick-cut bread, Jessica asked, “So, off the record, what do you think of treecats?”
Doctor Hidalgo stopped disassembling his sandwich and considered. “Off the record?”
Jessica held up her uni-link as if to show she wasn’t recording.
“Very well.” Doctor Hidalgo slowly rolled a slice of roast capri-cow and considered. “I think that there’s no doubt that the treecats will place somewhere on the sentience scale. They’re tool-users and tool-makers. They also show a desire for more tools to fill their basic needs. Some of the potsherds and fragments of gourds Dr. Whitaker’s collected show definite ornamentation. It’s not elaborate, true, but it serves no other function than a desire for, if not beauty, then at least differentiation.”
“And that raises them up the sentience scale?” Jessica asked.
