“I smell rice cereal.”
“Then we’ll have to be quick and quiet,” Kendi said roguishly. “Good practice for when we have kids in the house.”
Some time later, Kendi was dressing and Ben was rifling the messy closet, looking for his bathrobe. In the end, he gave up and pulled on a pair of shorts and an old shirt. His hair stuck out in all directions, giving him a rumpled, boyish look.
“Is that what you’re wearing to the Leaving this afternoon?” Kendi said.
Ben’s eyes widened. “God, I’d forgotten all about that. It’s today?”
“At noon. I’d forgotten, too.”
Harenn knocked on the door. “Even I cannot keep breakfast warm forever, gentlemen.”
A few hours later, Kendi stood with Ben outside the home of Ched-Hisak’s family. The house was larger than a human dwelling, and the corners were rounded. Other Ched-Balaar houses sat on the branches around them, connected by the ever-present walkways. The day was bright, sunny, and unseasonably warm. Ben and Kendi both wore short pants, sandals, and simple shirts in muted colors. Kendi’s had a tear near the collar. Ben carried an enormous loaf of bread stuffed with fragrant herbs—Lucia’s handiwork.
“So we don’t do anything special or different,” Kendi said.
“Right,” said Ben.
“Are you completely sure?” Kendi asked.
“I’ve lived on Bellerophon all my life,” Ben reminded him, “and I’ve heard about Leavings, even if I’ve never been to one. When Ched-Nel and Ched-Pek emerge from the den, act as if it’s nothing special. Talk to them as if you’ve met them before. Ched-Hisak and Ched-Miran will have shown them images of us, so they’ll know who we are. Remember, as far as we’re concerned, they’ve always been around. And for heaven’s sake, don’t say the word child. Not here.”
Kendi nodded. “I still feel like I should bring a present.”
“No! That would make it seem like a special occasion.”
“It is a special occasion.”
“Not one we’re supposed to draw attention to,” Ben said. “We can bring food because that’s for everyone, but we can’t bring anything that’s just for Ched-Nel and Ched-Pek.”
“It still doesn’t make sense,” Kendi said.
“It makes perfect sense,” Ben insisted. “The Ched-Balaar hide their children to keep them safe from predators or enemies. It’s probably an evolutionary thing that turned into strict custom. Now that the kids are old enough to join society, we don’t want to draw attention to the fact that the family can reproduce in case there are any other children still hidden away.” He shook his head. “You’re thinking too much like a human, Kendi.”
“A true failing,” Kendi said.
“And don’t forget about their names when we’re in their house.”
“I’m not a total ignoramus,” Kendi said. “I’ve lived on Bellerophon for a while, too, you know.”
“Sorry,” Ben said. “I just don’t want to make a mistake. Let’s go in.”
Ben pressed his hand against the door and waited for the computer to announce them. Then the door jerked open and they found themselves face-to-face with a female Ched-Balaar. Kendi blinked. The Ched-Balaar were much taller than humans, but this one was on a level with the two men. It felt distinctly strange to look one in the eyes without craning his neck.
“Kendi!” clattered the Ched-Balaar. “Ben! Come in!”
Ben recovered first. “Thank you, Nel,” he said. “Nice to see you.”
“We brought bread,” Kendi said lamely.
Nel dipped her head in acknowledgment and ushered them inside.
The air inside was damp, just as it had been in the Ched-Balaar restaurant. A large room opened in the center of the house with smaller rooms branching off to the side, rather like a forest clearing with smaller glades scattered here and there. Dark green moss made a thick blanket on the floor. Comfortable-looking pillows in muted colors were the only furniture. “bout a dozen Ched-Balaar moved gracefully abut the room, many of them holding drinking troughs or food platters. Four Ched-Balaar, all wearing bright orange head cloths, played a variety of percussion instruments in intricate rhythms augmented by tooth chatter. Several other Ched-Balaar were dancing to the music, rearing up on their hind legs, bobbing their heads, and adding their own clatter to the drumming. A curved table off to one side held a variety of food from fresh fruit and fried fish to steamed insects and poached slugs. Nel set the bread among the offerings.
“I’m glad you could come,” she said. “It seems like fewer and fewer humans visit Ched-Balaar homes these days.”
“If Foxglove has his way,” Kendi said, “we’ll all live separate lives.”
“That would indeed be a shame,” chattered a new voice. Mulaar, Salman’s running mate, dipped his head in greeting. “Our species have spent far too much time together on this planet to separate now, no matter what certain factions among us think.”
“It’s no fun to have a political discussion,” Kendi remarked, “when you agree with everything the other person says.”
“What also frightens me,” Mulaar continued, “is the way Ched-Pirasku ignores the problems that Foxglove and his supporters drum. If Ched-Pirasku wins the election, the separatists will gain momentum—the separatists will rally over their anger at losing the governorship, and Ched-Pirasku will refuse to stop them. He is too willing to compromise.”
“You’re drumming to the band, Mulaar,” Kendi said.
Ben craned his neck, scanning the room. “I don’t see Pek anywhere.”
“Over there,” Nel said. “Next to Father.”
Pek was hanging back, sticking close to his father Hisak, who appeared to be deep in conversation with someone Kendi didn’t recognize. Pek was the same height as his sister, with the same dun-colored fur and wide-spaced green eyes. It was interesting, Kendi mused, that custom allowed Nel to refer to Hisak as her father, but that he couldn’t refer to her as his daughter. Not that human customs always made sense. Mention the word “menstruation,” and most human males dove for cover.
“We should go over and say hello,” Ben said pointedly. “Right, Kendi?”
“Oh! Right!” Kendi said, jolted out of his reverie. He let Ben lead him across the room. Pek raised his head and blinked at them with enormous green eyes.
“Hisak,” Kendi said. “I haven’t seen you since that argument with Putan.”
“Ched-Putan,” Hisak corrected. “She is no member of this household. But I am glad to see your presence.”
“And Pek.” Kendi turned to the younger Ched-Balaar and offered his palms. “Are you in good health?”
“I am,” Pek said shyly, covering Kendi’s palms with his own. “It’s nice to see you, Ben.”
Kendi’s face warmed. It was a gaffe—Pek, who had only seen Ben and Kendi in images had gotten the two of them mixed up, thereby calling attention to the fact that they had never actually met. There was a tiny, embarrassed silence. Then Ben stepped in and nudged Kendi’s palms aside, replacing them with his own under Pek’s hands.
“Thank you, Pek,” Ben said as if Pek had been addressing him all along. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Pek bobbed his head. The four of them made further conversation about the weather and the upcoming election, and the momentary awkwardness was smoothed over. After a while, Ben and Kendi excused themselves to visit the food table.
“Nice save,” Kendi murmured to him.
“Second one this week,” he said. “And I didn’t sprain my shoulder this time. Hey! Bug salad!”
They ate and they mingled and even danced a little to the ever-present drumming. Nel and Pek, who would choose a second syllable for their names at a later date, did the same. Everyone acted as if there were nothing special about their presence, though Kendi had to force himself not to stare at the twins. They were so much shorter than the other Ched-Balaar, and a bit ungainly. Still, there were differences between them. Nel moved easily among the party-goers while Pe
k stayed close to Hisak or his mother Miran. Kendi wondered what it must be like, living in seclusion, only being allowed to come outside at night, with only a handful of people even acknowledging your existence, and then suddenly being thrust into full-blown society. It would probably be like living a lifetime on the sims, only to have someone shut the game off.
Eventually, however, Kendi got used to the twins’ presence, and in the end he decided a Leaving was actually pretty boring. It made sense not to draw attention to the youngest, least-experienced members of your herd, he supposed, and he guessed that Nel and Pek were enjoying their newfound freedom as full members of Ched-Balaar society, but it was a strain even for sociable Kendi to keep the conversation casual and light so that the two newcomers could join in as if they’d always been there.
After an hour or so, Kendi tracked down Ben and they bid their farewells, taking care to include Nel and Pek without calling too much attention to the fact.
“We’re leaving a Leaving,” Kendi said after they exited. “So after a Leaving is over, is it a Left? Do you have the Right to be Left?”
“I’m not listening,” Ben said, clapping his hands over his ears.
“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it.”
“Not listening.”
“Hi, guys. What are we not listening to?”
Kendi pulled up short and Ben took his hands down. Sejal Vajhur was standing in front of them.
“Sejal!” Kendi shouted, and embraced him. “You’re back!”
“Your mom told us you were someplace secret,” Ben said, giving him a quick hug as well. “God, it’s good to see you. What have you been up to? What’s been going on?”
“Lots,” Sejal said in a voice that sounded much too serious for a young man of seventeen. “Let’s go someplace and talk.”
They went to a coffee house and ordered tea. When Kendi remarked on the strangeness of it, Ben shrugged. “Coffee’s like gold these days,” he said. “You want to stay in business, you offer tea.”
The little shop was deserted except for the owner, who polished tea cups and rearranged tea jars behind the count. The trio’s booth lay in the back. Herbal scents hovered in the air, along with the smell of fresh-baked cookies. Sejal sat across from Ben and Kendi. He was a strikingly handsome young man, slender and wiry, with dark coloring and contrasting blue eyes that reminded Kendi of Keith. Kendi had, in fact, once suspected Sejal of being Keith’s son. Wrongly, as it turned out.
“What’s been going on?” Ben asked over a mug of raspberry tea.
“Senator Reza hired me to spy on Mitchell Foxglove in Othertown,” Sejal said. “Undercover.”
Has your grandmother ever been a wrinkled old lady who bakes blue cupcakes for the Awakening Festival?
“All life,” Kendi breathed.
“How long have you been doing it?” Ben asked.
“A little more than three months. It started right around the time you guys left to find Harenn’s kid.”
“Why you?” Kendi asked.
“Didn’t Ben tell you?” he said. “I talked to him in the Dream when you guys were up to your asses in some scam on S” Station.”
Kendi shot Ben a glance. “He didn’t say anything. Tell me what?”
In answer, there was a flicker. Kendi’s mug of tea blinked from its place in front of him to a spot closer to Sejal. It took Kendi a moment to understand what had happened.
“I moved that, didn’t I?” he said. “You can still possess people from the solid world.”
“I’m not as good as I used to be,” Sejal admitted. “The Despair, and all. And I don’t flash on people’s feelings much anymore. I can still make people feel things, though.”
“Handy abilities for a spy,” Ben said. “I hope you charged Grandma an arm and a leg.”
“She’d pay with someone else’s,” Kendi muttered. “What did you find out, then?”
“Short version? Foxglove runs that place like his own private kingdom. He owns fucking everyone. Cops, fire, local newsfeeds, even the school board. I caught Senator Reza’s speech during the whole Taper thing, and she was lying through her false teeth about getting votes in Othertown. I mean, there are rumors spreading around that when you identify yourself at the polls, his hackers will send a copy of your vote to his office. You don’t vote for him, and you’ll get a visit from the club ‘em and cleave ‘em committee.”
“He can’t do that,” Kendi sputtered. “That’s illegal. And impossible! Ben, he can’t do that, can he?”
“Any system can be hacked,” Ben said, “but there’s no way I’d try it, and I’ve hacked the Unity.”
“So fucking what?” Sejal said. “It only matters that everyone thinks he can do it. They’re too scared to vote for anyone else. I’ll be surprised if Senator Reza and Ched-Pirasku get more than six votes apiece from Othertown.”
“Does Grandma need Othertown?”
Sejal shrugged. “Not my job to figure that out. Hell, Kendi, the votes he can’t scare, he’s been buying. He paid for his party’s nomination with cold, hard freemarks. I’ve even seen him bribe individual citizens.”
“Awful expensive way to run a campaign,” Ben said. “Where’s his money coming from?”
“That I couldn’t find out. I didn’t dare manipulate the real higher-ups in his campaign in case they suspected something. I stuck with secretaries and flunkies.”
Secretaries. “Sejal, did you ever come across anyone named Finn Day? Or Helen Day?” Kendi asked.
“Nope. Why?”
“Just curious.”
“I still want to know where his money’s coming from,” Ben said thoughtfully. “It sounds like he’s spending money like water. Do you have proof of any of this, Sejal?”
“Nothing that would stand up in court,” Sejal said. “Like I said, I had to be really careful. He’s probably got sets of account books that would make a prosecutor juice his slacks, but I don’t know enough about computers to access them.”
“I might be able to find something out,” Ben said, “but I’d have to get hold of one of his computers, first.”
“I thought you didn’t want to get involved,” Kendi said.
Ben sat back. “I suppose I’m involved whether I want to be or not.”
The ground rumbled. Kendi stared into the talltree forest, made some adjustments to the controls, and the gravity sled rose to a position about eight meters off the ground. The ground cover surrounding the talltrees trembled as if in fear. Martina grabbed Kendi’s upper arm from behind.
“Are you sure they won’t hurt us?” she asked.
“Positive,” Kendi said. “I’ve done this dozens of times, and I’m still around to tell the tale.”
“How many people have died doing this?” Keith asked.
“No one that I know.”
“That’s not very encouraging.”
Kendi almost snapped that nothing could encourage Keith, but he bit back the words and peered into the shadows among the talltrees. Enormous forms moved in slow motion and eventually the first irvinosaurus plodded into view. It was enormous, a house that had sprouted legs and a tail. Its little head rose high into the air, high enough to browse the lower branches of the talltrees. Tiny, wide-spaced eyes peered sharply about, and it had a single nostril in the center of its receding forehead. Its tail didn’t drag the ground, but pointed straight backward and gave Kendi the impression it could smack a rear ambush with devastating accuracy. After a moment, a second, slightly smaller irvinosaur came into view, then a third and fourth. Three babies the size of Clydesdale horses were next, followed by more house-sized adults. Kendi adjusted the gravity sled down a meter and got a firmer grip on the tow rope tied to the front of the sled.
“Not the first one,” he murmured. “They’re all dumb as dishwater, but the alpha always has a few more brain cells.”
“Are you sure about this?” Keith asked, clearly awed. “I don’t know if—”
“Oh, Keith,” Martina said. “Giv
e the morosity a rest, will you?”
“Morosity?” Keith said. “What the hell kind of word is—”
“Shush!” Kendi hissed. “They’re getting closer.”
The first irvinosaur was only a few meters away. For a moment it came straight at them, bearing down like half a dozen freight trains. Martina increased the pressure on Kendi’s arm. Then the dinosaur seemed to notice them. It turned aside and passed them by so close that Kendi could have reached out and touched it. The animal smelled of decaying grass, manure, and musk. The second irvinosaur followed the first, passing the sled by.
“Now!” Kendi said. He and Martina leaped off the sled straight onto the dinosaurs’ back. Keith hesitated. “Hurry, Keith! I’m not going to tow you.”
Keith jumped. He hit the irvinosaur’s back and lost his footing. His feet went out from under him and he fell, rolling, toward the animal’s flank. Martina grabbed him. He got to his feet, shaken and staring.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he wheezed. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
Kendi hauled on the tow rope and the gravity sled slid into a position behind them so they could get off later. “It’s fun, Keith. You have to let yourself go sometimes. Figuratively, I mean.”
Keith didn’t answer. Kendi drove a small stake into the dinosaur’s thick, pebbled hide and tied the tow rope to it. The gravity sled obediently followed. Kendi raised his hands and stretched. The dinosaur’s back was so broad it had only a slight slope to it. Talltree trunks moved past at a slow, steady pace. He could feel the creature’s huge muscles moving under his feet like boulders sliding around far below the earth. Behind came the rest of the herd, plodding steadily forward. Every so often, one of them gave a low, moaning call that the others answers. The sound vibrated Kendi’s bones and he felt a rush of exhilaration.
“Are you sure it won’t hurt us?” Martina whispered.
“Positive,” Kendi said. “It barely knows we’re here. Hey, if a fly lands on your back, do you even notice?”
“It’s just so...big. I can’t imagine how much it weighs.” She spread her arms wide and spun in place. “This is marvelous, Kendi. Breathtaking! A little slow, though.”
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