Acorna's Rebels

by Anne McCaffrey

  Rubbing her face against his furry sides so that her horn as well as her cheek and nose pressed against him, she murmured what sounded like coos to the other people but what she was actually saying was, (I told you so! I knew you would catch this disease, you stubborn beast.)

  RK wriggled free and with a smug purr and eyes wide and bright again, said, (And I told you that you would heal me if I did.)

  “He certainly looks like a Temple cat to me,” one of the priests who seemed unaffiliated with any particular feline said. “In fact he looks more like the real thing than any of ours at the moment, tatty as they are from undereating and all of that noisy puking they’ve been doing.”

  “With all respect, Your Reverence, the ambassador is not only our guest, she has laid healing hands upon our sacred guardians and saved them from certain death,” the woman in the priestly robes said. “I think we must give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Oh, of course,” the man said with false joviality. “No offense meant, Your Excellency.” But his smile was oily and his eyes were shifty. Acorna imagined he would be giving a report to Nadhari’s cousin before long, and would not neglect to mention RK’s entrance.

  “None taken,” Acorna said lightly. “But now, if you’ll forgive me, the healing process is very draining to me. I need to rest.”

  “You’re welcome to leave your guardian here with ours if you wish, Excellency,” the woman grooming Sher-Paw said with genuine concern.

  RK had been doing reconnaissance among the Temple cats, but apparently found them still too weak to be stimulating companions. He hopped up on Acorna’s shoulders and made himself comfortable around her neck, letting his head and front paws drape to her waist on her left side, while his back paws dangled on her right side to the middle of her arm.

  Acorna laughed. “I believe he has spoken.”

  “I will show you to our guest quarters,” Miw-Sher said, leading them from the room. As the girl began to turn down a hallway that appeared to penetrate deeper into the Temple’s interior, Acorna said, “Please tell your high priest that RK and I must return to our vessel. I can examine the tiny animals that cause this illness there, and perhaps discover a means to combat the sickness. If I am successful, I will be able to leave with you a medicine you can use in case of further outbreaks of the disease. I may also be able to teach your people how to prepare this medicine themselves.”

  Acorna thought she might be able to prepare a vaccine for the illness using a blood sample from RK, but the Temple would lack the necessary laboratory facilities to purify and test it. And, given the Federation proscription on introducing new technology to these people, she’d better do any research she wanted to do aboard ship.

  Miw-Sher said, “Perhaps your friend should stay aboard your vessel until you go. I fear he may not be allowed to return with you unless you keep him out of sight. Especially with the number of our own guardians so sadly depleted. You may find him missing when you are ready to leave.”

  That provided Acorna with an opening to discuss her ambassadorial role with someone she felt instinctively was trustworthy.

  “This cat is very important to my people.” That would give her a further justification for RK’s presence with her. “You must understand that my people have had their world destroyed twice just within my lifetime and have already suffered many losses.”

  The girl nodded as if they were discussing the weather. “Makahomia wasn’t destroyed, but my family and home have been,” she said. “We allied ourselves with the Kandos and sent warriors to fight beside them. So when our village was attacked, our men were away fighting for them, and no one was around to protect us from our enemies. My mother and brothers were all slain and I alone of all my family remained to greet our allies when they finally arrived. Among them was Brother Bulaybub, who is my mother’s steppe-cousin, and he persuaded the Mulzar that I would be good with the cats, particularly Grimla, whose special friend was killed in the battle. But I’m interrupting you!” the girl said, her hand flying to her mouth as if to shush herself. “I’m sorry. I’m very rude. Please go on.”

  Acorna continued. “During the first attack, my people left their original homeworld. They took what they could with them in one great evacuation. They intended to take with them cats they called pahaantiyirs. I know this only through the stories of my people. I myself was not born on our homeworld, but was orphaned in space. I’ve only just returned to my people recently.”

  “You have? But I thought you must be from an important family, and very well known to have achieved your high office so young!” She saw that Acorna was patiently waiting, and once more her knuckles flew to her lips. “Oh, there I go doing it again. Pardon me, please, and continue.”

  Acorna smiled. “You could say my status has something to do with having been adopted by an important family—several of them, in fact.” There were Gil, Calum, and Rafik, the asteroid miners who were her original adoptive fathers. Then there was Rafik’s uncle, the wily and wealthy Hafiz, who had adopted her instead of collecting her when he learned she was part of an alien race and not a freak of human physiology.

  And there was her dear friend, Mr. Li, who had also adopted her and helped her rid the planet Kezdet of child slavery and prostitution before he finally succumbed to the illness that had crippled his body for so many years.

  Then she had been found by her mother’s sister, Neeva, and returned to narhii-Vhiliinyar, where she was adopted by Grandam Naadiina and Maati.

  Captain Becker, too, had been like another uncle to her, and had saved the life of her beloved Aari. Finally there was Aari himself, her lifemate and other self—well, there was Aari for a short time at least, before he disappeared during the exploration of Vhiliinyar. In the meantime, she had the support and love of his family—his mother Miiri, his father Kaarlye, and his sister, Maati.

  She had to admit upon reflection that even though she did not have Aari’s company at present, she had been very lucky in her adoptive families.

  “At any rate, I am told that when the time came for my people to evacuate, their pahaantiyirs were nowhere to be found. They disappeared entirely and have not been seen, alive or dead, since. They all say RK bears an incredible resemblance to the pahaantiyirs. Nadhari Kando, who as you saw is with us, tells us that RK also looks very much like a Makahomian Temple cat. So my mission is, now that I’m here, to learn if there is kinship between these two species, and if so, how close that kinship might be.”

  Miw-Sher looked thoughtful, staring first at RK, then back to Acorna’s face. “It is possible, though I know little of worlds beyond our own. You’re not likely to learn much here. His holiness is very good at…delegating…matters of doctrine and history to others. But please, we have tarried here too long. The others will be coming soon and somehow I feel your plans may not meet with His Holiness’s approval.”

  “Then I would rather not meet His Holiness right now. It sounds as if this may be my best opportunity to return to the ship. Is there a back way out of here?”

  “There is another way,” the girl said, hesitating, then saying, as if arguing with herself, “It can be frightening—but then, you must be very brave to have come so far from home through space. And you have a guardian with you. Just remember he will protect you, and do not be afraid, no matter what.”

  “I won’t,” Acorna promised.

  Miw-Sher made up her mind and motioned Acorna to follow her. “Come quickly, then, and I will show you the way.”

  They passed through a maze of corridors and back out of the main Temple building, across a much narrower courtyard. This contained a lush garden, a central well, and enough fountains to make Hafiz happy. Rows of cloisters enclosed the garden. Miw-Sher pulled Acorna and RK back between the columns and the wall. As they came to the join where the tail-shaped wing of the building met the body, Miw-Sher pressed her finger against a stone in the wall and it opened. The opening was not nearly tall enough for Acorna, and even Miw-Sher had to stoop to show
her the way. “Just keep going straight through here. It’s only about sixteen feet to the end of the passage. It opens into an abandoned dwelling. Be careful not to be seen as you leave or someone may misunderstand. You’d best cover your head as you go. You are—conspicuous.” Miw-Sher gave Acorna a large scarf such as some of the Temple’s inhabitants wore for a head covering.

  “Yes,” Acorna said, “I will return as soon as I can.”

  “Remember,” Miw-Sher said, “don’t be afraid. Nothing can hurt you, and even if it could, your guardian will protect you.”

  Acorna ducked low into the wall. Once she was past the entrance, the opening grew taller so she could walk upright. Miw-Sher waved from the opening, then started. “Someone is coming. Safe journey.”

  With that the door shut behind her, the darkness deepened, and the sounds of the courtyard were snuffed out like a candle flame. RK stiffened in her arms. His fur bristled and his claws pricked her arm. When she touched his head to quiet him, his ears were laid back. A low growl leaked through his teeth.

  And then she heard it, too. Coming from inside the surrounding walls, there was a whisper like blowing sand or a serpent’s hissing. As she listened more intently, the whisper rose to a mumble and she thought she could make out separate words.

  She stroked RK soothingly and listened with her mind as well as her ears. The words were incomprehensible but the feelings behind them were anxious, angry, frustrated, and also fear.

  The emotional storm they created enveloped her and RK. The cat’s tail switched back and forth, back and forth, faster and harder. He puffed to twice his size, but Acorna was the only recipient of his bared claws.

  His growl grew in his throat, and as it grew, a corresponding growl entered the words until they ended in a hollow, reverberating roar Acorna was sure would bring everyone running. Just as she stepped forward, however, the roar was replaced by a calmer sound, a deep and throaty purr. RK’s tail no longer switched, and his ears, when she touched them, were pricked forward, alert but calm. The hair on the cat’s back gradually settled down sleekly along his spine. RK was sending no thoughts at that point for her to receive, nor had he from the beginning, but now the cat settled into a relieved purr that seemed to be echoed by whatever it was that lived inside the walls of this Temple.

  Miw-Sher’s skin twitched as she listened to the noise within the wall. Grimla mewed plaintively. Miw-Sher was glad the occasion had arisen to introduce Acorna to the wall’s resident. There was so much to explain, so much to ask, but she sensed a firm ally in Acorna if only she could enlist the ambassador’s help without alerting her enemies.

  When the roar came, Miw-Sher had already reached the cattery and deposited Grimla within it. Her beloved friend could not help just now. The cat needed to gain strength. Miw-Sher was loath to leave Grimla and the other cats, even for a short time, but she could not stay inside the Temple without knowing what was happening. When she was once more in the darkness of the back courtyard, she changed quickly and leaped to the top of the wall and over.

  Five

  The grub wasn’t nearly as good as advertised, Becker thought, but to give him credit, Macostut, after a bite or two of his own meal, apologized for it. “Usually our facility can offer excellent fresh meat and vegetables to our guests, and I automatically promised that when I invited you. The truth is, the disease the Mulzar mentioned has caused the Makahomians to quarantine the meat animals and forbid their slaughter for food. Since, as you mentioned, Captain MacDonald, diseases such as this may be caused by some problem in the food or soil, we have also had to process our fresh vegetables until they are no longer in their most edible condition.”

  Becker was gracious. “It’s better than cat food,” he said incautiously.

  “I beg your pardon?” Mulzar Kando replied.

  Nadhari began damage control. “Captain Becker is a thrifty and resourceful man. He accepts many commodities in trade for his salvage. One of his regular customers gives him large quantities of cat food. There have been times during his more perilous journeys when he sustained himself by eating that when other rations were unavailable.”

  Kando looked interested. “Hmmm, perhaps, if we have something you would like to trade for, we could take some of the cat food off your hands? If the diet of our Temple cats is indeed responsible for the disease that has decimated them, some alternative food may provide relief until we can bring the problem under control.”

  Becker thought for a moment. “Maybe. I had the impression you folks don’t use a lot of machinery.”

  “That has always been true in the past, certainly,” Kando said.

  “You got any hard-copy books, maybe? I could trade for some of those.”

  “No, I fear not. Our writing tends toward sacred subjects and is usually inscribed upon monuments.”

  “Is that so? Seems like you’d have to write down your laws and rulings on things, your history, that kind of thing.”

  Kando appeared genuinely grieved. “Alas, I fear that being always at war has undermined our ability to retain such ephemeral documents. Battles are recorded only by the bards of the winners. The possessions of the losers that are not looted are burned in the victory bonfires.”

  “I can see where that might present a problem,” Becker said. “How about those stones in your necklaces? Got any of those you’re willing to trade?”

  Everybody but him and Scar laughed as if he was being intentionally funny.

  “No, I’m serious,” Becker said, holding up his hands for silence. He explained. “As a gemstone, they’re not considered to be worth a lot—I mean, at least not elsewhere—but they have other uses.”

  “He’s right,” MacDonald said. “They’ve used them a lot in spot terrestoration.”

  “We’re only laughing, Jonas,” Nadhari said, “because no matter what was offered for one of the sacred eyes, we would never trade or sell it. The stones are religious items, you see. They are believed to have been given to us by the earliest deities of our people.”

  “Oh, well, no offense meant,” Becker said. “Just tryin’ to drum up a little business. Didn’t mean to interfere with anybody’s religion. But they’re used for a special kind of particle beam—”

  “Ah-ah, Captain Becker,” Macostut said, waving his finger in warning. “Such things are not relevant to the Mulzar’s culture.”

  “Oh, of course, sorry,” Becker said again, and wished himself back on the Condor, where he was not so socially inept.

  The Mulzar waved both of his hands as if to blow away the smoke of embarrassment. “Nothing to be sorry for at all, Captain Becker. Dsu forgets sometimes that while my culture may be more or less uncontaminated, I myself was contaminated at an early age by no lesser agent than the Federation itself. I was well aware at the time that stones similar to our sacred ones were used as particle beam accelerators to produce bladelike laser beams for mining. We have very fine stones here, and I am sure you will be extremely sorry when you see them that my people will not allow me to trade any of them for your cat food.”

  This time the laughter was unanimous. Becker thought Kando was probably an okay guy after all. And he was Nadhari’s cousin. If anyone had an insight into how to bring his former lover out of her funk, Cousin Edu and the old folks at home might be the ones.

  Whatever else was affected by the planet’s current difficulties, the wine was fine, if undistinguished, and everyone was enjoying it and becoming quite relaxed under its influence.

  Captain MacDonald told some amusing stories about farming and tractor repair on some of the planets where he visited, and Becker chimed in with a couple of tales of his own, as well as relating a thrilling account of the battle against the Khleevi. He was hoping this might stimulate a war story or two from Kando. And that might also open the door for Nadhari to talk about what was bugging her.

  Instead, Kando said simply, “Thank you, Captain Becker, for reminding us how fortunate we are that the Federation shields us from these truly terrib
le threats. The Federation, that is, and heroes like you and my cousin. Most of my people are unaware that such dangers exist, but my friendship with Dsu and my own experience while training for the Corps have given me different insights. It is because of this other reality that I differ from my predecessors, who considered constant war a way to keep the economy lively and the power in balance. I have come to feel strongly that these wars divide us against each other to no good purpose. They weaken our planet’s voice in the Federation. They retard the progress of our civilization, destroy valuable individuals, and drain our resources, both natural and cultural.

  “We don’t need to be at war constantly, fighting over the same thing. We need roads and bridges both physical and cultural that will connect us, not divide us. Better schools. Better medical care. And we won’t get those things until Makahomia is united. Only then can we hope for more than our present impoverished level of existence.”

  Becker wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to applaud or head right out to the polls and place an illegal (since he was not Makahomian) but enthusiastic vote for Kando for Mulzar.

  The speech did stimulate Nadhari. She smiled one of her slow and dangerous smiles and said, “And who do you suppose could unite our planet and how, Edu, hmmmm?”

  Kando reached over and took her hand, his voice practically throbbing with sincerity as he said, “I was hoping you might help me answer that question, Nadhari, now that you are home again.”

  Then the Mulzar started in on a narrative about Nadhari’s childhood. She kept protesting what he was saying, and he lapsed into one of the Makahomian dialects, one that Macostut apparently understood, too. Occasionally one of them tried to translate the conversation, but this seemed to be an in-joke kind of session and the Mulzar’s Standard wasn’t up to it, especially as his wine goblet emptied more and more often while he joked.