"The suns have their reasons," she' d said when he'd brought her the
skin . " Perhaps Dancer is still needed , and through his skin , he still lives."
Her signs had comfort ed him in a way he'd not thought
105
SILENT DANCES 105 possible when first he'd touched his son ' s
remains.
"The chick will rest now ," Weaver told Good Eyes. "It may be an entire day before he begins cutting his way out."
" Retu rn to your own shelter ," Taller signed. "Sleep there.
Come back in the mo rn ing and be part of our family."
" How early should I come ?" Good Eyes asked. " Before the Father Sun ," Taller signed.
"I'll be here." She turned to leave, her eyes moving about the shelter .
Perhaps the hum an s weren ' t as nearsighted as he'd thought . Good Eyes peered again at the story of the Beautiful But Deadly Fish. I gave her a true name, Taller realized.
Once outside the shelter , Tesa exhaled in a rush , her legs buckled , and she sat down in a heap . She'd move into the shelter tomorrow, a
week ahead of time! She threw up her arms and slid down the slick emb
an kment on her butt , jogged through water toward Meg an d Thorn
until she remembered her stilts. She waded back , strapped them on,
then plowed out to her waiting mentors.
Exuberantly, she grabbed Meg's shoulders but the water was too deep
and they started to fall. Meg latched onto Thorn who floundered wildly t
ry ing to steady them . They managed to regain their equilib ri um
without a dunking.
" The chick ' s pipped !" Tesa signed as soon as she could. "You nearly knocked us in the d ri nk , Good Eyes!" Thorn an swered . He was tense, edgy.
" The chick's early ?" Meg signed , unsmiling.
Tesa sobered instan tly . " Taller said that me an t the chick was strong .
Was he just saying that?"
Meg shrugged.
"As if we didn' t have enough to wor ry about," Thorn signed.
"We thought we'd have more time to teach you Grus ways ..." Meg
explained. "You've only been here a day."
" No sense belabo ri ng it, Meg," Thorn signed.
Tesa felt deflated, their conce rn s sweeping away her enthusiasm . She shivered . Her feelings were wrong , backward. "The first few weeks you can use your voder to study our files," Meg signed, with a tight smile .
"The chick will still be sleeping a lot then. " She looked at Thorn as though t ry ing to make him feel better . " It's the best we can do."
A jagged fork of lightning ri pped across the late - afte rn oon
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sky, high in the atmosphere, its bright flash obscuring, for the briefest
second, the light of the setting suns.
"Oh, no, don't tell me we're going to have a storm on top of everything else,"
Meg complained.
"Doubt it," Thorn assured her, "it's too high up." Another bolt seared the heavens as Meg and Thorn began wading back to the camp.
Tesa waited for more lightning but none came. They can't hear the thunder,
either, she thought fearfully.
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CHAPTER 10
Scott' s Notes
Tesa knelt on the narrow bed, staring at the star-studded night sky. She was
wearing her favorite sleep shirt with its faded StarBridge logo. Feeling
chil ed, she pul ed her old quilt up around her.
Trinity's three moons were creeping over the horizon, two full, one the
thinnest crescent. Father Moon, Mother Moon, New Hatchling Moon. A
good sign , according to the Grus--the Moons of the New Hatchling ...
unless Taller's chick was their gift.
Meg and Thorn had regained their optimism during the walk back. Thorn had
made an elaborate dinner, topping it off with a heart-berry pie. During the
meal, Tesa had been able to shake, for a while, the worry she'd felt after
leaving the nest shelter.
Tesa told the biologists some of the things she and Taller had discussed, but
hesitated telling them about the story-walls. She wanted to see them better
herself first.
Now dinner was only a satisfied memory and the long night lay ahead. Her
eyes strayed to her jacket, hung on a convenient chair, hiding her feathers.
She thought of the Aquila feather, how it had glittered in
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the twilight like metal, its quill rigid, strong, a puff of soft down' floating at the
base, alive, quivering with power. Tesa rubbed her forehead, trying to erase
the chaotic fragments of dreams that kept drifting across her mind.
That lightning this afternoon had been heat lightning--nothing more, she told
herself, firmly. She refused to see it as a sign meant for her, a sign to make
her wonder whether she'd chosen the right path. If she started believing that,
she'd then have to wonder exactly what her dreams were telling her to do.
Rob Gable, she knew, had had no idea of the level of responsibility the Grus
would expect of her. He'd seen this assignment as an unusual pair project,
no doubt-one that would be completed in about a year. But now, Tesa
realized, there was more than that involved. And she couldn't help
wondering whether she was doing the right thing in parenting this chick.
Already, human contact had changed the avians in subtle ways. Humans
had renamed their planet, renamed the Grus themselves. Why do we keep
cal ing them some old Latin word? Tesa wondered. Even I do it, and I know how it feels to be renamed as though you didn't exist before you were
discovered!
This child Tesa would soon be helping to raise--what would be normal for
him? What effect might she have on the avians' culture? Were the privateers
really the greatest danger the Grus faced, or could it be that twenty years
from now cultural anthropologists would look back and chronicle a
sociological disaster aided by a naive woman who had ignored her dreams
and the bitter lessons of her heritage? She remembered Sacajawea.
Tesa pulled the quilt tighter, trying to shake off her fears. Some people had
space travel and some people didn't; that was an inescapable reality. If the
humans couldn't prove the avians' intelligence, Trinity would be thrown open
for colonization, and then the Grus would undoubtedly suffer the same grim
fate other primal peoples had.
But one thing had changed since the days of Columbus and the
Conquistadores. She'd been sent to be the interrelator--to understand them,
become one of them, prove their intelligence. Then, if there were a thousand
humans here-and in ten years there might be twice that-it wouldn't matter if
none of them believed the Grus were people, because the interrelator would.
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And nothing happened without her say-so. That was her job, to speak for the people, to keep their world theirs.
So, Tesa scolded herself, as she headed for the desk terminal, stop
fretting and get to work. As she skimmed through Scott's b ri ef notes on chick - rearing , she was brought up sho rt by the mention of Aquila .
Leaning closer, she read the decision Sco tt had made two years
before.
"I've given up discussing the Aquila with Dancer," Scott wrote . " He insists the Aquila are ùncivilized,' that they'rèmindless killers.' His proof is
that the Aquila nest without shelters, that they have no sign language,
and that they are p re dators that eat the Grus--a potent argument, that
last one. However , th
e Grus a re p re dators themselves , p re ferring live food to any other . The difference in housing could be cultural. As
for language , many Grus find us ùncivilized ' since our language is
spoken. To them , vocalizing is p ri mitive , used only for declaring territo ry, or love , or wa rn ing off enemies. To them , only signing is language , with its poet ry of movement and its ri ch literature of sign combinations . Opera would have no meaning here -- Moza rt would be only cacophony."
Tesa smiled at that last sentence.
"I've taken six old cameras that were left by Jamestown Founders ," Sco tt'
s notes read , " and placed them at three diffe re nt unoccupied Aquila nests on the f ri nges of the old-growth forest , about two hours ' flight from camp . Dr. Li would have my ass if she knew , since we ' ve been `
officially' ordered to discontinue any research on the Aquila . The gove
rn ment is scared senseless that our expressing any interest in that
taboo subject will jinx our contact with the Grus--at the same time they '
re so wor ri ed about ange ri ng the Founders that they're wrapping this whole ventu re in tons of red tape.
"Anyway, the cameras a re n't official gove rn ment equipment , so Dr . Li can ' t forbid something she doesn't know anything about . Even Meg's
forgotten about these relics. Then, if I can get enough data , maybe I
can find out once and for all if these creatures have even a shred of
intelligence."
Tesa read how Scott had set those cameras up with heavyduty batteri es
and extensive memo ry- storage capabilities. Those things might still be out there, she realized, waiting for someone to scan them . So where are they?
" This is the first secret I ' ve kept from Meg," Sco tt wrote. "After the cameras are set up , I'll record the coordinates."
110
Tesa signed in frustration. She'd have to look through all Scott' s stuff to
find those markers - volumes of material! Reaching for her Miza ri
voder, Tesa interfaced the two computers so the voder could search
for the coordinates hidden in Scott's files. The Mizari voder should only
take minutes to find the electronic markers Scott would have used to
connect him to the cameras . Once she got those markers, she could
remote control the cameras-turn them back on, if they'd been shut
down . She was excited , as though she and Scott now shared a secret.
Suddenly feeling the eeri e sense of another's presence, she jerked her
head up . Thorn stood ri ght in front of her , watching her over the back of the small terminal.
" How long have you been there?" she demanded , sta rt led. " A moment," he signed apologetically , his face colo ri ng. "Not even a minute . I ... uh, that is Meg and I ... tu rn our nullifiers off at night . I called you ... but I forgot that you ... uh ..." He stood with his hands
poised clumsily in the air, at a loss for words.
Of course. He'd forgotten she was deaf.
"After that," he went on lamely , " I didn ' t know how to get your attention without sca ri ng you . Now I feel like an idiot !" He looked bemused and uncomfo rt able , obviously perplexed by a code of behavior he'd never encountered before.
Casually, Tesa blanked the screens and moved away from the terminal ,
gathering her quilt around her like a buffalo robe. Relax, she thought. He
doesn ' t have the faintest idea of what you were doing . She moved beside him , taking his role.
"When you want to get the attention of a Deaf person," she signed, " you can wave , like this." She flapped a hand vigorously at the chair she'd
just vacated . " Many Deaf people have some hearing , so you can
shout , but that won't work with me. The most effective way to get my
attention is to stomp the floor ." She thumped her foot against the slick tiles.
Thorn glanced guiltily in the dire ction of Meg ' s qua rt ers. When Tesa looked at him questioningly he explained, "She's probably sleeping .
Wouldn ' t want to wake her..."
Tesa smiled at him tolerantly. He's so transparent! Glancing at the terminal, Thorn asked , " Are you studying
Scott ' s stuff?" Tesa nodded.
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"I hope Meg and I didn't make you paranoid about that--really, you should be
sleeping ... like Meg."
"So, why aren 't you?"
He shrugged, moving aimlessly around the area, then turned quickly toward
the open window. "A rousette's calling! That's a golden red, night-flying
mammal that looks like a cross between a fox terrier and bat. It makes a
hauntingly lovely sound."
As he signed away in biologist mode, Tesa watched, amused. "The Grus
call them," he made a double hand motion, "'little ones with a big noise,' or,
`they wake us up.' Scott and Meg were frequently roused at night by that
piercing sound ... so Scott called them 'rousettes.'" He looked out the
window again with an expression that indicated he was listening.
"They sound so sad," Thorn signed. "Like ... someone who's lost something, or never had something. No-like someone who wants something he can't
have."
Tesa looked at him, smiling. "Why do I get the feeling that you've come to tell
me something? Ever since we were introduced, you've been barely holding
something back. Just-tell me!"
Thorn's eyes moved quickly around the room. "My ... His hands fumbled.
"She got ..." His cheeks reddened again. "I can't sign it in Grus."
Tesa handed him some paper and a pencil.
Gratefully, he scrawled across the page, handed it to her. "My wife got
married yesterday," it read.
It was Tesa's turn to look befuddled. She could see why he hadn't been able
to sign that in Grus.
"To someone else, I mean," Thorn signed, not looking at her, then held up
his hands as though he wanted to start over. "I took this job to get away from
Earth." He scribbled another message. "My wife wanted a divorce," it read.
"I didn't," he signed. "I was still in love with her. There was another man ... it was a mess. I wanted to get as far away as I could."
"This is pretty far," Tesa agreed noncommittally.
"Yes ... and no. When I first came aboard the Crane, Lauren made a play for me ... and I thought, why not ... but I wasn't ready. I handled it badly. After
Scott died, I took Meg's place and was happy to be alone. It gave me time to
recover."
Tesa was surp ri sed at the tu rn his sto ry was taking , knowing that telling it was costing him something.
112
"When you' re hu rt really bad," Thorn signed , " sometimes you just w an t to hu rt someone back . Then you only w an t work -- no emotion , no love, no hate. When you hit that stage, you c an' t even notice when
you sta rt to feel better ." His eyes met hers for a second . " When you stepped out of that shuttle an d tu rn ed around to look at me - all of a sudden , I knew I w as over it . I felt emotions I didn't think I ' d ever enjoy again. A stunning wom an smiled at me -an d I liked it!"
Tesa blinked at him, standing there in her nightshi rt and old quilt . She ce rt ainly didn ' t feel stunning.
" I didn ' t mean to tell you all this ," Thorn signed , " but ... I thought we'd have days to get to know each other. Now, in a few hours you'll be
leaving . I couldn ' t let you go without saying ... something ..." His hands fumbled as he stared at the floor . " I just wish ... we didn ' t have this l an guage barrier."
"What barri er?" she signed . " You've been quite eloquent." He shook his head . " I feel clumsy, groping for phrases I know instead of
speaking spont an eously . If only you--" He brok
e off abruptly.
" Could hear ?" Tesa felt a coldness steal over her. Thorn ' s expression softened . " It'd be easier . Meg says you're having corrective surge ry done next year."
"Meg's wrong!" Tesa flashed the signs , an ger taking her so quickly she couldn ' t think , only react . " And who would it be easier for? For you, that' s all. You and your damned Moza rt . You wish I could hear ? Well, I wish you were deaf. Then I'd know whether the things I see i n your eyes were the re on purpose . I'd t ru st your signs, instead of wonde ri ng what you really mean . Hearing people hide behind words and sounds."
"You don ' t want the surge ry ?" Thorn was sta rt led.
"No! And I' m sick of eve ry one telling me to get my ears fixed! They're not broken as far as I'm concern ed ! I'm tired of being defined as a walking malfunctioning ear. I ' m a person! No, I don ' t want the surgery !
Not in a year , not ten years, not ever . I'm Deaf ! I'm Indi an. I'm damned proud of both those things !" Tesa stopped suddenly , realizing that halfway through her tirade , she'd lapsed into ASL , that Thorn couldn't follow her signs . In anguished f ru stration , she yelled , " OH, SHIT!"
Thorn gesture d desperately at her to be quiet and then tried futilely to
supp re ss his own shocked laughter . " Okay, okay
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you don ' t have to have to have it done if you don ' t want to. They' re your ears! I sure don't care."
Tesa found her anger evaporating. " You don't?"
"Why should I? You've obviously functioned quite well all these years
without hea ri ng . If you feel that strongly about not changing , then I'm on your side . Just stop yelling , please!"
Tesa began to smile in spite of herself. " You're just saying that to placate
me."
"No, I swear. You've got to do a million things in this life to make other
people happy. I lived in New York for two years to please my wife , and
look where that got me . Somewhere you've got to draw the line. And I can see where you've drawn yours. I admire that."
"Aren ' t you going to give me a hard time about Moza rt ?"
" Who?" Thorn asked, obviously confused.
She spelled the name again. "You don ' t know Mozart? He's a
composer of classical music. I thought hea ri ng people couldn ' t live without that expe ri ence."
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