by Paul Lucas
But not all joined in the mirth. A sizable minority frowned at the display. And Cloud's lips curved deepest of all.
Hence this meeting, late at night when the human would be asleep. Cloud and some like-minded followers such as the elder Azure insisted on confronting Flier on the matter. I was invited by our chieftain because I had spent the most time with Lerner and could serve as witness to his character.
"Lerner and his people are not like the humans we have dealt with before," Cloud said. "They are not wandering primitives who cannot understand something as simple as the making of pottery. They are magical creatures. Powerful ones! Who knows what strange spirits drive them? And now one is loose among us, to do as he pleases!"
Windrider shook her silver-haired head. "Their leader, before she departed with the rest on their skyship, assured me they only wish friendship and knowledge, and to eventually trade with us. They do have workers of magic, shamans like myself and Gossamyr, whom they call Mages. I talked with one called Louis Thorson, a friend of Lerner's, at length before the humans left. They know what magic is, and are right to assert that the tools they use are not such, despite what we first thought. They simply know more and use that knowledge to make better tools, just as we know more than the nomads in the wilderness around us, and use that knowledge to make better hunting weapons like bows and spear-throwers."
Cloud spat. "And what we do is so inferior to them, is that it? We are primitives to them, as the nomads are primitives to us! They are so much better than us, that we cower before them! And now Lerner is here, to remind us of their superiority!" Azure and some of the others grunted agreement.
"We were all afraid," I interjected, “when their skybo--when their helistat came to us. Is that what this is about, Cloud? You resent that the humans made you, the big, fearsome Chief Hunter, feel afraid?"
Cloud shot to his feet. "I am not afraid of them!" he shouted. “At least I am not so entranced by Lerner’s magic that I follow him around like a mother-sick fawn, Gossamyr!"
My ears flattened against my skull in anger. "I am no fawn! Lerner and his people just have so much to teach us! Like those gun-weapons they showed off to us, the one many of you males lusted over. They said the next time they come, they might bring some to trade. Imagine hunting with those! Our community need never run low on meat again, unlike with you leading our hunting parties..."
The thinly-furred skin around his eyes purpled in renewed anger. He turned toward Flier, pointing at me. "See? It is already starting! Lerner is turning us against each other!"
Flier shook his shaggy head. "Most of the others welcome Lerner, and have personally expressed their pleasure to me at seeing him stay with us. And Gossamyr is right in that we can only benefit from their knowledge."
"But how can we be sure of their intentions?"
Windrider raised her hands and eyes upward. "Because they come to us from the holy sky! I believe the Sky-Spirit would allow no evil to embrace his winds. And they do not just ride the currents of the sky, they tame them!" She lowered her gaze and mumbled a few magic phrases. She shot her hand out, and the room’s small hearth-fire shuddered bright blue for a heartbeat. We all fell into an awed hush.
I remember Lerner’s name for such things. The word he used translated as magic, a casting to summon unseen forces, but he said that was an old way of thinking. He told me that the proper name for magic was Nanotech Matrix Manipulation. It was one of a great many things I planned to ask him about in the future.
Windrider continued. "The humans channel the winds, using them to pull their sky-boat upward as we pull travois! They are as favored by the Sky-Spirit as we! We are given the gift of flight in childhood, to have it taken away as we mature. The humans do not possess natural flight, but are allowed to use machines to fly for them. Both our peoples are equally blessed, and equally limited, by the Great One. They are our spiritual brethren and come offering great gifts, and yet you would belittle them for it, Cloud? I think not. My husband did not make this decision lightly. He discussed it with me at great length, and softly expressed many of the reservations you have so coarsely shouted here. It will mean some changes, yes, and perhaps not all of them will be for the best, but we believe Lerner’s staying here and further contact with his people will be for everyone’s benefit."
Many of the dissenters were cowed into silence, both by Windrider's tirade and colorful spirit-calling. Cloud grumbled and seemed about to say more when Flier interjected. "It is settled, then." Our chieftain cast a withering scowl at Cloud. Our Chief Hunter may be headstrong and brash, but he knew when not to press a contentious issue too far with Flier. Most of the time.
Our leader scanned the room. "Lerner is now a guest of our community, and you will all treat him with respect and courtesy, as true Myotans should, no matter your personal feelings. The matter is closed." He and his Mate rose, bowed a good-night at us, and left. No one challenged them. The others slowly filed out of the meeting room. I stayed behind to quench the hearth fire, its smoke wafting into the ceiling vents all rooms possessed. Cloud was the last to leave. He shot me one last glance of hurt before he pulled aside the woven blanket that covered the doorway.
I knew at that moment that despite Flier's assertions, this whole matter was far from over, at least as far as Cloud was concerned.
SIX
To adopt a policy of non-interference with the peoples we contact is sheer idiocy, a silly idea held over from Old Earth fiction. The very act of first contact is going to change contactee cultures irrevocably. Some societies will change a little, some will change a lot, but rest assured change of some kind will occur.
But if we take an active role, imparting useful knowledge such as medical techniques and leaving gifts that will make a good first impression, at least we can ensure the changes that do occur will be for the most part beneficial to us and to the contactee culture.
Besides, with the enormous stakes the Known Nations are playing for, a little cultural contamination is a small price to pay.
--Excerpted from a speech by famed explorer Joanna Singhe to the Second Underworld Council, 1 June 522, at Tera Island Conference Center, Teranesia.
* * *
Lerner and Cloud came to blows less than a week later, and it was all my fault.
Our lives settled back into a kind of routine. Much had changed, and yet in a way nothing had. We gathered food as we always had, raised our families as we always had, gossiped and argued and joked and lived exactly as we had before the humans came.
Almost.
There was a new energy, a tension, an expectation to much of what we did now. Some of it was simply the enervation that comes when a long, dull rut in routine was broken. But much also had to do with the newness the humans had brought to us.
During the day, I worked as usual in the orchards or in the forests surrounding the Tower clearing, gathering food with the other females and older males. As Windrider’s apprentice, I was occasionally excused from having to engage in food-gathering chores, but I always felt guilty when others were working so hard and I was not. When I was younger, I had hoped I would become a hunter in adulthood, but female hunters were rare, as few had the strength to pull a bow or throw a spear as well as the males. Pulling roots and picking fruit was tedious work, but one did not have to interact much with the others if one did not want to beyond idle gossip, giving me much time to think.
My evenings were spent with Lerner as he slowly surveyed the Tower in detail. I had become his de facto assistant. No one questioned when I went to help him, not even myself. Somehow, since he had singled me out on that day of first contact, our fates seemed intertwined.
The fight began innocently enough. Lerner and I had just returned from surveying all the chambers and doorways on the levels he had dubbed 78 and 79. An exhausting task requiring many hours of walking and climbing curving ramps.
Lerner was slightly ahead of me as we re-entered the residential area of the Tower. It was an hour or so before the sun t
urned dark, and with most of the day’s work done, many of my people were just returning from bathing in the orchard streams. They bustled about in the corridors, relaxing and gossiping. They greeted us politely as we walked by, whispering to themselves as soon we were past. Lerner seemed oblivious, but his hearing was much less than a Myotan's. Some of what they whispered was sympathetic, wondering if I was working myself too hard, while others were cruel, wondering if I preferred the company of the human to my own kind.
I always insisted on carrying my fair share of equipment, even though Lerner's greater human strength could easily have handled more than half the load. Stupid, I know, but my pride got the better of me at times. We were passing through the main residential corridor when my vision fuzzed white for a moment. Days of non-stop exertion caught up to me and like a youngster flying too high I fainted.
I was only unconscious for a heartbeat or so. I fuzzily remembered strong arms catching me. I heard my name called from far away with an odd accent.
I slowly blinked back to full consciousness, to find myself hanging in quite an embarrassing position in Lerner's arms. He was hurriedly stripping off the broad straps anchored around my hips below my wing, holding my burden on my back. The load thudded onto the metal floor.
"What--happened?" I asked sleepily.
“I don’t know,” he said through his translator-box. “You fainted, I think. Are you okay?"
I slowly nodded. "I think so. I--"
A fist shot out and slammed Lerner across his jaw. He stumbled back, letting me go. I fell backwards, smacking my behind on the hard metal floor.
"Keep your hands off her!" Cloud's fur bristling as he towered over Lerner. The human bent low from the force of the blow and was nursing his jaw with one hand. Cloud stabbed a tool-finger at the human. "Is it not enough that you work Gossamyr like a pack animal and that you contribute nothing to gathering food, but must you also paw her with your monkeyish hands?" He raised his hand for another blow.
Lerner, with surprising speed for one so large, lunged forward and grabbed Cloud by the forearm. Like a human, Myotans also have a thumb and four fingers to a hand. Unlike them, however, the outer two fingers on each hand function as wing struts, measuring over half a body-length long. When our wing-fingers are not in use, we fold them against the palm and forearm, so that they are tucked up and out of the way.
When Lerner grabbed Cloud's arm, he also grabbed Cloud's wing fingers, squeezing harder than perhaps he meant to. Lerner was only human, after all, and perhaps did not realize how painful such a grip would be to us, especially backed by a human's heavily-muscled strength. Cloud screeched in surprised agony, flashing his free hand out so that the small talons of his tool-fingers slashed across Lerner’s face. Thin arcs of crimson flew through the air.
Lerner yelped and stumbled back, wrenching Cloud’s arm painfully before letting go. For a second they both cradled their injuries, staring venom at each other. They began to circle each other, sliding into fighting postures. Cloud was large for a Myotan, nearly as tall as the human, and had been wrestling and killing prey since early adolescence. Lerner was clearly unused to violence, but held the advantages of superior size and strength. Who flew the stronger wind in this fight was unclear.
I scrambled to my feet, fighting off another momentary wave of dizziness. "That is enough!" I said.
"Remain out of this!" Cloud snarled.
I rewarded the hunter with my most withering glare, then turned toward my stricken friend, whose face was bleeding profusely. “Lerner did nothing wrong! I fainted, and he caught me! He was helping!"
Cloud, unheeding, yanked me away from Lerner by the shoulder. "That is enough, Gossamyr! I will not have my future Mate embarrass herself by associating with..."
An anger colder than any wind-borne chill swept through me. I shoved Cloud away from me with all my strength. He stumbled back two full steps. "And what makes you think I am going to be your Mate?"
The Chief Hunter was taken aback. "But--but everyone just assumes that we... I know you have been reluctant to admit it, but you and I, see, we belong--"
I flung my hand at the human, who cradled his face in one hand. "Look at what you did to Lerner, our honored guest! And for what? Some stupid jealousy of yours? Because he is taking everyone’s attention away from you? I will never be your Mate! Understand, Chief Oaf? Never!"
Cloud’s lips trembled, looking as if all the Tower had fallen on him. He opened and closed his mouth several times, searching for words, but none came. He scowled bitterly at Lerner. Finally, he turned and stalked away with what little dignity he had left to him, the crowd that had assembled around us watching his every step.
I turned toward Lerner, who seemed as stunned as everyone else. "Come, guest of my people," I said with elegant courtesy, making a show to everyone of elevating him after Cloud had insulted him. "Let us return you to your quarters so I can tend your cuts."
* * *
Lerner winced as I applied the smelly iodine from his medical kit to his wounds. I had wanted to use a proper herbal poultice, but he insisted on using his human-made medicines. He sat on one of the adjustable metal stools that came from his people's helistat. "Hold still," I chided.
"I'm trying," he mumbled through his translator-box as I held his bruised jaw tight. The gear we had lugged up and down the Tower lay scattered by the doorway, carried by sympathetic onlookers. I had to chase curiosity-seekers away so I could tend to the human in peace. Many congratulated me for standing up to Cloud. The few bachelor males that had been present seemed especially pleased, as my very public rejection of Cloud opened up the opportunity for them to try and court me. As if I would ever be interested in any of them. I would just be trading one kind of oaf for another.
Some in the crowd, however, were silent in their intense disapproval, frowning all the deeper when I chose to help Lerner instead of chasing after Cloud to apologize. The elder Azure made quite a vocal point of this to many bystanders as I led Lerner away.
I sighed, concentrating on my task. I was sure I was going to be the talk of the community for days to come, but for now I had to tend to Lerner’s wounds. Healing the injured was one of my duties as Shaman-in-training, after all.
"The cuts are not deep," I told him, applying the last of his magical self-sticking dressings on his wounds. "They should not leave any scars. If you want, I can get Windrider to call a healing spirit for you. I am afraid I have only been taught minor spirit-callings so far."
He nodded absently. "I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse. But how about you? You okay? That seemed pretty intense, what you said to Cloud."
"I was just angry. I cannot believe the way he treated you, after you tried to help me! Who does he think he is? I am not some dog, to be ordered around!" I scowled and leaned back against a table, snapping my wings in a huff. "Forgive me, Lerner, I should not be venting my anger on you. Let us just forget what happened."
The human shrugged. "He's partially right, you know."
“What?"
"About my not helping out around here. I should contribute more. Maybe help your people with food gathering."
"Oh, no, you must not! There is no need for you to hunt or gather. Flier said so."
"Gossamyr, your people have been very kind, but I can’t keep eating your food and using your things and give nothing in return."
"But you have!" I said. "The food your people gave to us, the medicines you give to the sick, the magical tools you let us borrow to cut wood and help predict the weather, those are all payment enough."
He shook his head. "Yeah, but I don’t feel like I’m contributing. Your people bust their tails all day to put food over your fires, and all I do is fiddle with scanners and range finders."
"‘Bust our tails?’" I crinkled my muzzle at the odd image.
He rolled his eyes. "A human saying. Anyway, I want to do more. If we could get the survey finished sooner, so I’d have it ready for the next helistat run out here . . ."
&
nbsp; I nodded, remembering my fainting attack. "I, too, would welcome any way to make the task easier."
He rubbed his chin, an odd human gesture. “Maybe we could get some of the children to fly equipment up for us."
"No," I said emphatically. "Only if they volunteer on their own, as Brightwind does with the hunters. They should be free to play and fly as they please."
He looked at me oddly. "I’ve noticed that you almost never interfere with the children’s playing, and your people rarely discipline them unless they do something seriously wrong. Why is that?"
"Is it different with human youngsters?"
“We generally don’t indulge them quite as much as you do."
I shook my head. "It is not indulgence! Do you not understand? When they fly, they are in the Sky-Spirit’s embrace, and he gives them nothing but joy when his winds fill their wings. But that magic will be taken away from them soon enough.” My ears hugged my head. “Far too soon. They will lose one of the greatest joys they will ever know, lose what is at the very heart of being Myotan. We have these wings all our days, but can only truly use them for such a short time. It is the price we pay to become an adult."
I turned away from him, surprised to find myself blinking back tears. In the past few weeks, with all the excitement from the humans’ arrival, I managed to push out of my mind my own recent loss of the skies. All those feelings returned to me in a torrent. I hugged myself tightly, trying to fight down a spasm of shivering. “A horrible price.”
