Storyteller

by Amy Thomson

  But there were other harsels. Perhaps a harsel's presence could help the other pilots the way Abeha had helped Teller. It might not work, but it was worth a try. He strode with sudden purpose down the long floating pier where the harsels docked.

  Eric stood with him on the long wharf, blinking in the bright morning sun like a freed prisoner. "God only knows why I let you coax me out here at this god-awful hour of the morning. Hell, the sun isn't even properly up in the sky yet," he said, squinting up at the late morning sun. "And all this just to ride on the back of a goddamned fish. I'll say this, Samad, you sure are a persistent bastard."

  Samad lifted one eyebrow in sarcastic inquiry, but he was pleased that Eric had shown up. It had taken a month of nagging and pleading to get him to agree to this trip. He hadn't really expected him to come.

  Just then, the harsel surfaced, snapping its sail open in a bright explosion of spray. A few drops landed on Samad and Eric.

  "And I'm wet, on top of everything else," Eric muttered sourly.

  "I rather like IT wet," the surfacing harsel remarked.

  Eric jumped and looked around. Samad smiled inno­cently. "Something the matter, Eric?" he asked.

  "Just thought I heard someone say something," he grunted with a suspicious glance at the approaching harsel.

  Samad looked from the harsel to Eric and back again, startled but relieved. Eric had heard the harsel. That was an excellent sign. It meant that there was hope after all.

  Just then, their har captain came striding down the dock. "I'm Jahan Billacois, partner to Elawe. I understand we'll be taking you to Formentera Island. Are you all ready to go?"

  Samad saw Kellen looking at Jahan, with her thick braid of dark hair and long, slanted, flashing eyes. "Maybe it won't be such a bad trip after all," he murmured to Samad, as the har captain stepped aboard the harsel. "The scenery just got a hell of a lot better."

  "She's married," Samad murmured reprovingly. "Behave yourself." He wanted Eric's mind focused outward, on the harsels, not on Jahan, who was beautiful and very, very single.

  "Hell!" Eric complained. "The booze on this island you're taking me to had better be worth the trip."

  Samad saw Jahan watching them. Eric noticed, too, and smiled at her. She tossed her braid disdainfully over one shoulder and stepped onto the harsel.

  Samad had lured Eric on this trip with tales of the fabled wineries over on Formentera, a three-day trip by harsel. "Don't worry, Eric, it's worth the trip." It was, too. But Samad was hoping that the harsels would distract him from the wineries.

  "We're ready," Samad told her.

  "Good. We should be on our way before the tide turns."

  The harsel opened his hold. Jahan showed them where to stow their gear in the crew pod's guest cabin and then went back up onto the harsel's back.

  "Whenever you're ready, Elawe," Jahan said.

  The harsel sculled once, twice, three times, with his pow­erful tail, driving them away from the dock. Then his sail shifted and tightened, filling with wind, and they were un­der way.

  "Jahan, would you introduce us to your harsel?" Samad asked.

  "Can he talk to them?" she said, gesturing at Eric with a toss of her head.

  "I think he can hear Elawe when he talks to him."

  "I see," Jahan said, sounding a little less condescending. "Elawe, allow me to introduce Samad to you."

  "greetings, samad, the harsels remember you. it is an honor to travel with you."

  "Thank you, Elawe," Samad said inwardly, moved by the harsel's words. As far as the harsels were concerned, a person was not truly dead until she was forgotten. For the harsels, Teller was still alive. Samad felt the sudden pricking of tears. "And may I introduce you to my friend Eric," he said aloud.

  "greetings, eric."

  Eric had been watching this exchange with puzzlement. He jumped as though stuck with a pin. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

  "That was Elawe," Samad explained. "The harsel that's carrying us."

  "They talk?" Eric asked.

  "To those who have the gift of hearing them," Jahan said. "Not many can." She looked at Eric with a little less disdain.

  "H-how do I talk back?" he asked. He looked shaken but excited, too.

  "You can just say something out loud while holding him in your mind. It takes a little practice before you can speak silently to a harsel," Samad said.

  "Hello, Great One," Eric said.

  The harsel gonged laughter, "my name is elawe, eric."

  "It—he talked back!" Eric said. Jahan glanced at Samad, clearly wondering what was going on.

  "Just wait and see," Samad whispered to her before she could speak.

  "of course," Elawe said, "you spoke to me, didn't you?"

  "I-—you—" Eric stammered. "How do you do that?"

  "do what?" Elawe inquired.

  "Talk. No, I mean—talk like that? In my head," He glanced at Jahan and Samad.

  "i'm a harsel, eric, it's how we talk."

  "You mean," Eric breathed, his face shining now, "there are others like you?"

  Laughter gonged through their minds, "of course, sev­eral large oceans full," Elawe told Eric.

  Jahan gave Samad a questioning look. He drew her aft, giving Eric privacy. "I was hoping he'd bond with a wild harsel," he told the har captain.

  "I see," she said, looking at Eric speculatively. "Do you think he could become a har captain?" Samad could hear the doubt in her voice.

  "I don't know. This is the first time I've tried anything like this. He's an ex-pilot, and I was hoping that it would help him."

  "You think he's another Pilot?" she asked incredulously.

  "No, but I think the hars can help him," he told her.

  Jahan looked again at Eric with a frown on her face.

  "The Pilot was the only Jump pilot who didn't kill her­self," Samad explained. "Maybe it was because of her harsel."

  "The Pilot is a legend," Jahan said.

  "And Pilot's Island?" Samad replied, unwilling to reveal Teller's secret.

  "No one ever found the Pilot," Jahan pointed out. "Per­haps she killed herself like all the other pilots did."

  "The harsels don't think so."

  Jahan looked at him dubiously.

  "It's true," Samad said. "Abeha told me so." Telling the truth about the Pilot was like sailing into the wind's eye. He could come only so close and no farther. "The harsels still remember the Pilot. Ask Elawe," he said, hoping that the harsel would finally be willing to reveal their closely-held secret.

  Jahan's eyes unfocussed as she spoke inwardly to Elawe.

  "it's okay?" Elawe asked him.

  "Yes," Samad replied. He sensed Elawe mind-speaking to Jahan.

  Jahan's eyes opened wide in shock. "He says you're right. He told me that the Pilot is real, and that she still lives in their memories!" Jahan looked at Eric, who was seated near the mast, watching the channel markers. "But ex-Jump pi­lots are not exactly reliable, Samad. What if Eric hurts the harsel he bonds with?"

  "I think we should let the harsels decide," Samad told her. "They see what we can only guess at."

  Jahan looked at Eric, who was seated near the base of Elawe's mast, gazing up in wonder at the curve of the harsel's sail. "Very well," she said. "We will leave it up to the harsels." Her broad face took on the absorbed look of someone speaking inwardly for a moment.

  "Elawe agrees. If he judges that Eric is worthy, he will approach some of the wild harsels and see if any of them would like a partner."

  Samad nodded. "Thank you, Jahan." And inwardly, "Thank you, Elawe."

  "it's an interesting project, samad, i'm glad to be able to help," the har replied, "besides, i like eric."

  It was as much as he could hope for. Everything now de­pended on Eric. The rest of the day was smooth, sweet sail­ing across the Strait, with Nueva Ebiza dwindling behind them. Eric sat near the mast looking out over the water and communing with the harsel, his face alight with wonder.

&
nbsp; "He certainly likes Elawe well enough," Jahan said. There was a sharp note in her voice.

  "Are you jealous?" Samad asked.

  Jahan shrugged. "I'm used to getting a little more atten­tion from men."

  "Some of that may be my fault," Samad confessed. "I told him you were married."

  "Why the hell did you do that?" she asked.

  "He needs to focus on the harsel, Jahan. He's no good to anyone the way he is. If the harsel can pull him out of his decline, then maybe he'll be worth something to some­body." He shrugged, embarrassed. "And I didn't think you'd be interested."

  "Did I say I was interested?" Jahan inquired.

  "No, you didn't."

  "Well then," Jahan concluded and turned back to watch Eric at the mast.

  Samad turned away to hide his smile. For someone who wasn't interested, she certainly was spending a lot of time looking at Eric.

  The next morning dawned fair and clear, with a stiff wind whipping up whitecaps. Jahan made breakfast. Eric ate with a good appetite, alert and almost chatty. His eyes seemed clearer today, too.

  "Can I get you anything to drink?" Samad asked him.

  "No thanks, Samad. This orange juice is just fine."

  "All right," Samad said. He hadn't seen Eric drink any­thing stronger than orange juice the whole time they'd been on board. And judging by his alert interest in the world, he

  hadn't been drinking on the sly. But Samad was afraid that asking him outright would upset Eric's fragile new balance. Still, the signs were promising.

  "his body wants a drink, but his mind does not." Elawe told him. "so far he's fighting the desire, but

  HE NEEDS A HARSEL OF HIS OWN SOON."

  "Any luck in finding one?" Samad asked inwardly.

  "I AM CALLING AND LOOKING. I WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I FIND THEM."

  About an hour after breakfast, Elawe suddenly fell off to leeward. Jahan sat up and looked around.

  "there's a fleet of wild harsels just over the horizon," Elawe announced, "i thought eric might like to see them."

  "several of the younger ones are considering partnering with A human," the harsel told Jahan and Samad privately.

  Eric went forward and searched the horizon intently, heedless of the spray that dashed over him as the harsel breasted the white-capped waves. Sensing Eric's eager cu­riosity, Elawe trimmed his sail, heeling over as he sped through the water.

  It had been a long time since Samad had ridden the back of a fast-sailing harsel. He had forgotten the exhilaration of it. He felt a pang of longing for Abeha. He missed her so much.

  "her memories live on," Elawe reminded him.

  "Look! There they are!" Eric cried. And in the distance Samad could see a cluster of sails, dark against the light sky.

  The harsels came about, clearly intending to cross their course. Jahan handed Samad her binoculars, and he surveyed the fleet as it approached. It was a large fleet of twenty-eight, no, twenty-nine sail of harsels. It was a creche fleet. More than half of the approaching harsels were youngsters

  from several different breeding seasons. They ranged in size from two to eight meters long. The smaller harlings were escorted by four or five young adults.

  As they approached, two or three of the harlings, curious about Elawe and his passengers, sailed out from the shelter of their escort. Immediately two of the escort tacked sharply, herding the harlings back into the shelter of their elders. Elawe headed up into the wind and slowed to a slow cruise, while he introduced himself and explained their mission.

  A young harsel broke off from the fleet and circled them curiously. He was a trim harsel, about a dozen meters long, with a very white sail. The young harsel was just one season older than Abeha's offspring. Seeing the harlings made Samad wonder if any of Abeha's children had survived. -

  The young harsel probed his mind.

  "I AM HAU'OLI. ARE YOU THE ONE WHO IS SEEKING A

  partner?" the har asked, its voice subdued with nervousness.

  "No, the one you seek is up there," Samad said looking at Eric, standing just forward of the mast. "But he does not yet know that he is seeking a partner."

  "thank you." The young harsel paused, "you knew

  ABEHA BUT WERE NOT HER PARTNER."

  Samad inclined his head in assent.

  "Abeha's memories are alive with us. she sends you greetings."

  Samad felt his stomach lurch with a mingling of cold surprise and illogical hope. He still found it hard to accept the harsel's belief in the real presence of memories. "Thank you," he managed. "I carry Abeha's memories in my heart." It was the polite formula the harsel used when speaking of the dead.

  "and she holds teller's memory in hers," Hau'oli told him.

  Samad was relieved when the wild harsel's mind shifted

  its focus to speak to Eric. Eric's face lit up as Hau'oli spoke to him. Jahan glanced at Samad, her face carefully neutral.

  There was a long, hanging moment as Eric and the wild harsel probed each other. The lapping of the waves and the wind in the harsels' sails seemed suddenly very loud.

  "Hau'oli wants me to ride on his back!" Eric called excit­edly. "Is it all right?"

  "Of course it is!" Jahan called. "It's a great honor to be invited to ride on a wild harsel."

  "Go ahead, Eric. We can wait."

  The circling harsel respectfully approached Elawe from the leeward side. Elawe slackened his sail and graciously in­vited the young harsel to approach. When they were along­side, Eric stepped onto Hau'oli's back, his face radiant with happiness. The younger harsel sculled away from Elawe, then tightened its sail and shot off on a tight-hauled beam reach, clearly elated to have coaxed Eric aboard.

  "What do you think?" Jahan asked Samad. "Will they partner?"

  "I thought we were letting the harsel decide," Samad teased. "But I hope so." He looked at Hau'oli, pleased and hopeful for Eric, but also a little sad. He missed Abeha so much. There was a large, unacknowledged hole in his heart that he had been stepping around for the better part of two decades. He had hidden his own grief in order to spare Teller from further pain. He sighed, feeling suddenly torn in two. He couldn't be both a Jump pilot and a har captain. And he had clung to being a Jump pilot for so long.

  "Let's go below," Jahan said. "I'll make some lunch. Eric will be hungry when they get back."

  Eric was hungry, sunburned, and ecstatic.

  "Hau'oli, and I, we're—" Eric began, and then stopped, searching for a word to describe their relationship.

  "Partners," Jahan suggested. "You've bonded, haven't you?"

  Eric nodded, his face glowing with happiness and a touch of sunburn.

  "Congratulations, Eric, what are your plans?" she asked gently.

  Eric looked overwhelmed by his good fortune. "I—we— I don't know," he floundered.

  "What you need first is a crew pod," Jahan suggested. "I know several good outfitters, some of them offer financing, if you don't have the money. A pod can cost quite a bit."

  "No, no, money's not a problem. I have a good pension. It's just that this is so sudden."

  "Did you have other plans?" Samad asked him.

  "Of course not," Eric said. "It's just that it'll take some getting used to. And ..." He hesitated. "I want a drink. I'm afraid—" He shook his head. "I'm a used-up old drunk. I'm worried that I'll let Hau'oli down."

  "You've managed to go without a drink for nearly two days already," Samad pointed out. "And you know that Fa­ther Russell will be happy to help you when you need it."

  Eric shrugged. He looked at Jahan. "Do you think I can do it? Do you think I could be a good partner to Hau'oli?"

  "Hau'oli chose you, and harsels see what we can only guess at," Jahan reassured him. Her gaze flicked momentar­ily to Samad, acknowledging his words.

  "But what if—"

  "One day at a time, Eric," Samad said. "Take it one day at a time for now. Why don't you and Hau'oli cruise with us back to Nueva Ebiza, and see how it feels. You two need
time together. And maybe Jahan can show you how to clean the parasites off of the inside of Hau'oli's hold."

  "i'd be glad to let you demonstrate on me," Elawe volunteered.

  "Oh you! I just cleaned your hold out," Jahan scolded fondly.

  "yes, but there's this new spot up forward, on the starboard side. it itches."

  "All right Elawe, we'll see to it. But Hau'oli needs clean­ing a lot more than you do."

  Elawe grudgingly acknowledged this and subsided into silence again.

  During the rest of the trip, Eric quizzed Jahan closely on what he would need to equip a crew pod.

  Samad, worn out by Eric's persistent questioning, and saddened by the ex-pilot's happy mood, slipped out of the pod, and up onto the harsel's back. The two moons were slivered crescents, looking like barely open eyes. The stars hung bright and illusively close, as though he could almost reach up and touch them. He looked up at the dark, familiar immensity of the Thalassan night sky and sighed.

  "you're lonely, samad," Elawe said, "why?"

  Samad nodded. "I miss Teller," he said inwardly. "And Abeha. It's not the same for humans. We don't remember people the way that you do. When someone is dead, to us they're gone forever."

  "POOR SAMAD. I WISH I HAD KNOWN ABEHA AND TELLER, SO THAT I COULD REMEMBER THEM FOR YOU. I SAW ABEHA ONCE, BUT I WAS TOO YOUNG AND SHY TO SPEAK TO HER. I'M AFRAID THAT I DO NOT HOLD THEIR MEMORIES. BUT IF YOU SEEK AMONG THE HARSELS, YOU WILL FIND ABEHA AND TELLER BOTH. I AM SURE OF IT."

  "My heart isn't ready yet, Elawe," Samad told him. He was too afraid that Abeha and Teller's memories might tie him to Thalassa when he was on the brink of leaving.

  "they will be there when you are ready," Elawe reassured him.

  "Thank you," Samad told the harsel.

  He sat down, leaning against the harsel's mast, letting Elawe's presence rest in the back of his mind. At last he woke from a light doze. By now Eric and Jahan were almost certainly asleep.

  "Good night, Elawe," Samad said, as he rose to go below to his bunk.

  "good night, samad, may you sail at peace through your dreams."

  When they landed at the harsel pier in Nueva Ebiza's har­bor, Samad bid good-bye to Jahan and Eric. They were so preoccupied with their plans for outfitting Hau'oli's new crew pod that they hardly noticed his departure. Already the two har captains were well on their way to becoming a self-contained unit. He was sure they would somehow work out the little white lie he had told about Jahan's being married.