Staré: Shikari Book Two

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Staré: Shikari Book Two Page 7

by Alma T. C. Boykin


  Oh dear, what should she say? Rigi groped for words. “Ah, I fear I lost track of Mr. Petrason after he and his mother left Shikhari, ma’am, and Mr. Lamar is currently near the edge of the Kenusha Plains.” Which was the literal truth, but not anything like Mrs. D would take it to mean. Rigi still preferred half-truths to full falsehoods, given her weak memory.

  “Really? I never took him to be the rural type. Perhaps it is a phase.”

  “Perhaps, ma’am.” Please do not ask for details, ma’am, please, Creator and Creatrix be kind please may she not ask for details.

  Mrs. D lifted a drink from the tray of a passing Staré, ignoring the waiter’s //irritation/annoyance// at her taking someone else’s order. “And what do you think of the place of Staré in colonial society, Auriga?”

  “Since she is one of Ebenezer Trent’s intimates, no doubt she finds it appropriate and considers Staré to be inferior, just as he does.” Rigi struggled to hide her dismay and anger at the speaker’s appalling rudeness. “Don’t you?” Mr. Smargad glowered.

  “I fear I must disagree with your appraisal of both my relationship with my uncle and of my opinions of Staré, sir.” Rigi tried to pretend that she was in one of the manners and deportment holos everyone studied. Almost everyone, she mentally corrected, doing her best to ignore the way Mr. Smargad stared at her, as if he were inspecting a wombow for purchase.

  “You see what I meant about the difficulties of dealing with children who do not properly socialize with their peers,” Mrs. D said to Smargad.

  “Yes, I do. Although I suspect her family has more to do with it. Have you ever worked with Staré, Miss, ever spoken to them about their rights?”

  “Yes, sir, and I find their company and advice to be valuable indeed.” Why would she talk about Staré rights? She wasn’t a legal specialist or advocate. “I have hunted alongside Staré as well. They are better shots than many humans.”

  The two adults looked at each other with expressions that shifted from shock to mild horror, then to a coldly thoughtful look that reminded Rigi of Shona deciding how best to carve up a quarter wombow in order to get the most meat off the bones. The Staré with the tray hurried past, probably concerned that he’d lose another drink and be scolded. Rigi glanced left and right, hoping for rescue or for an excuse to get away.

  “Fascinating, my dear. I thought I had seen you at the first Staré rights rally,” Mr. Smargad said, eyes narrow and slightly drooping. He reminded Rigi of a hunter–lizard. She could imagine him lurking in thick brush and attacking with a sudden lunge, grabbing the unwary and dragging them away. “Your talents could be put to such good use.”

  “Oh yes!” Mrs. D gushed, “Auriga, that would be wonderful, you could do so much good by using your art to show the plight of the Staré and how they are treated, especially on the plantations.”

  “Your pardon, ma’am, do you mean the lump fruit farms?”

  “Yes, those horrible places of hard labor and underpayment,” Mr. Smargad snapped. “Staré working in the heat and cold, without proper rest or equipment, not paid properly if at all. And do not believe for a moment those tales about machines being to hard on the fruit and leaves. That is a pure fabrication, to be polite.”

  Which you are not being, Rigi snapped to herself. But Mrs. D was the former governor’s relation, and the former military representative, and if Mr. Smargad were a Crown representative, then she needed to be careful. “I fear I do not have time at present, sir, ma’am, to be of service in your efforts. Perhaps after I return to Sogdia.”

  Mr. Smargad reached for her but Rigi sidestepped, pretending to avoid the fifth Stamm Staré who offered a tray of fresh drinks. She left her empty glass and took a new one. “Thank you,” Rigi said in Staré.

  The adults stared as the Staré ear-bowed, turned, and went to the next group. Smargad demanded, “What did you say to her?”

  Oh dear. “I thanked him in Staré.”

  “Why did his ears move like that?” Mrs. D seemed fascinated, staring at the waiter as he moved.

  Smargad sniffed, “Because he is unused to people speaking directly to him, I’m sure.”

  “No, sir, because his forefeet were full and his tray might spill if he bowed. The ear-bow is a polite acknowledgment when words and scent are not appropriate but a forefoot bow or full bow impossible. And he’s low Stamm, relatively, and may not speak Common that well.” If Mr. Smargad wanted to do so much for the Staré, why did he seem to know so little about them?

  “Ah yes, the caste system. That really must be eliminated. It is completely against Crown law,” Mrs. D stated, drinking the last of her glass as if to punctuate her comment.

  “That poses a challenge, ma’am, given that it is a native development that pre-dates human-Staré contact.” Rigi hoped they would get the hint and find a different topic or go speak to Dr. Xian, Dr. Sanchez, or the others.

  Mr. Smargad gave her a patronizing smile, all but patting her on the head. “I’m sure you’ve been told that, young lady, no doubt by your, ahem, uncle.”

  A tall graduate student hurried up, bowed a little, and said, “Your pardon sir, ma’am, Miss Auriga. I’m sorry to interrupt, but Miss Auriga, Col. Deleon would like a word and a moment of your time.” Rigi could have kissed Thad just then. Thank you, Creator and Creatrix.

  “Sir, ma’am, if you will excuse me.” Rigi followed the junior xenoarchaeologist, not giving the two off-worlders time to argue. She wanted to wash all over; to scrub off the feeling of Mr. Smargad’s gaze. Instead she smiled at Col. Deleon as warmly as possible.

  “Miss Bernardi, Col. Javier Deleon.” Rigi curtsied as best she could with a glass in her hand. “Col. Deleon, Miss Auriga Bernardi is our illustrator, and the co-discoverer of the Fountain Site, and Grassland One through Four as well as River Edge. She did the initial non-holo images for the discovery reports for those and the Stela Site.” Thad Martin stepped back, duty done.

  Col. Deleon’s eyes went wide. “You are that Auriga Bernardi? This is a signal honor, Miss Bernardi. I have never met anyone so esteemed by the Staré in my employ.”

  Rigi’s face felt hot as she blushed. “Thank you, sir. I was not aware the Staré knew of my work, other than those of my personal acquaintance.”

  “Oh yes. The thumping network knew of your return before most humans did, Miss Bernardi. Several of my clerks and soldiers know of you through Lexi, and that hunter and guide, ah, the odd looking seventh. Blast it, what is his name?”

  “Kor, sir, outStamm or seventh but looks almost first?”

  “Yes, him, thank you. They aver that you have the wise eye, and that your hunts always succeed and your seeds always prosper.” The tall man smiled down at her, then stroked his luxuriant golden brown and grey mustache.

  She blushed deeper. “I fear they overestimate both my skills and my fortune, sir. I am grateful for their regard, and I hope I can rise to meet their esteem.”

  He studied her consideringly, but his look did not upset her. “You are not by chance looking for a husband, are you?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Your manners and accomplishments far exceed those of the last young lady my son introduced to my lady and me.” He gave a little, almost wistful sigh. “Perhaps in the future.”

  “Perhaps, sir.”

  “So, on a more professional note, tell me what you look for when you scout for these sites, please, Miss Bernardi. May I refill your glass?”

  “Not yet, thank you, sir, and it is the outer wall and the general pattern, sir, at least thus far.” Rigi discovered that she soon had an interested audience and happily answered questions that she felt comfortable about, deferring to Dr. Xian and Dr. Sanchez and the others on topics outside her personal expertise.

  When Dr. Xian finally rescued her, Rigi desperately needed to visit the ladies’ washroom. As the senior xenoarchaeologist answered a question, Rigi whispered her own question to one of the human staff, a lady who led her to the proper room
. She returned to the reception just in time. The Staré acting as doorman announced, “Her Excellent Ladyship Lady Strella Andromeda Morris-Theodaulf.” Rigi curtsied, surprised to the point of shock to see that Her Excellency really was a neoTraditionalist. Rigi had heard whispers, but to see was to believe. Her ladyship dressed in richer fabrics of course, closer cut as befit her position, but her name and manner confirmed her faith. After accepting the honors of the room, Lady Morris-Theodaulf spotted Auriga and she and the governor walked toward her. Rigi curtsied deeper, glad that she’d not taken a fresh glass or a plate.

  “My lady, allow me to introduce Miss Auriga Bernardi,” His Excellency said. “Miss Auriga, my lady and helpmeet, Lady Strella Andromeda Morris-Theodaulf.”

  “Your Excellency, my Lady, this is truly an honor.” Rigi kept her eyes on the patterned wooden inlay of the floor, not trusting herself to keep from gushing.

  A calming voice said, “The honor is mine, for do not the Guardian and Matron encourage us to raise our talents to the praise of the Creator and Creatrix and for the benefit of all created beings?”

  “Yes, my lady, they do.” Now she looked up, and felt a pang of envy for the beautiful woman’s large, soft blue eyes and golden hair. Her modest lapis blue gown brought out the color in her eyes and the blush in her high cheekbones and complemented her husband’s suit.

  “It is too long since I attended temple worship, but duty interferes.” She gave a little sigh. “I am delighted to see a talented young woman with such poise and grace. You have brought a great deal of credit to your family, Miss Auriga, and to all of us.” She touched her throat as she said the words, meaning fellow believers as well as the people of Shikhari.

  “Thank you, my lady. I always do my best to try to live to the teachings of my parents and elders, be they human or Staré.”

  “A wise young lady indeed, and I suspect a tired one,” the governor said with a smile of his own. “Thank you for coming, Miss Auriga, and you have my permission to depart if you feel overwhelmed.”

  She curtsied again. “Thank you, Your Excellency. I fear your assessment is correct. I am not used to the excitement of such high society.”

  The couple left to speak to the other guests, and Rigi found one of the Staré, who brought her wrap and informed Jaihu, once more her father’s driver, that she was ready to depart. The third Stamm Staré brought the ground vehicle to the entrance and assisted her in. “Your parents will return soon,” Jaihu said, then closed the door and took her to the hotel where they were staying. Once there Rigi thanked him and went up to the family suite. She fought sleep off long enough to tell her parents the general outline of the evening, then fell into bed and slept without dreams.

  5

  Exploring the Plateau

  “I wish we had forest sites to survey,” Lukka Raleigh grumbled, pushing her sunshade back and wiping her forehead. “I’m tired of baking in the sun.”

  “Not me,” Thad said, flashing a toothy smile before drinking from his water bag. “I like seeing things instead of stumbling over them.”

  Rigi drank her water and held her peace. She didn’t mind the heat so long as the wind stirred the air, and the scents of the plains intrigued her. They’d be in forest for the latter part of the expedition, and for now she was quite content to watch the distance and contemplate a new land. She missed having Staré to ask information of and to hand duties to, but Dr. Xian and Mr. De Groet had not obtained permission for Staré to come along, and that was that.

  “So what do we look for, Auriga?” Lukka pointed to the sweep of grassland ahead of their little hill.

  “Patterns, ma’am. Patterns and shapes. Circles are what I’m familiar with, and a few ovals where the land did not permit a perfect circle. I believe Dr. Xian and Dr. Sanchez have seen rectangular possibilities as well, but I only know round walls.” As she spoke she studied the grass, wishing for a few cloud shadows to break up the light. The sun had passed south of the equator and they were in the end of the northern hemisphere’s warm season, leaving the grass on the plateau a uniform brown-green as it seeded out. Rigi worried a little about running out of that color in her set after drawing so much of it over the past week. She let her eyes relax, not focusing on anything specific, but taking in the general flow of the ground. She turned, slowly, taking her time to sweep the close area and the distance, just getting the sense of things. A hill halfway to the horizon caught her eye, and she crouched as she tried to gauge the height. “I think, ma’am, sir, perhaps that way? But I’m not sure if it is an environmental feature or something else.”

  A fourth person puffed his way up to meet them. Micah De Groet tapped his sunshade brim with two fingers in a form of salute. “Age may bring wisdom but it remains otherwise overrated. Mileage combined with age is a combination to be eschewed.” He sounded like Uncle Eb, and he nodded toward Rigi and gave her a quick sly smile. “See anything edible or of other interest?”

  “Auriga says that hill might have something.”

  “Hmm?” Mr. De Groet lifted his distance viewers and adjusted the range, then extended the mount’s single stability leg. He bent a little and peered, shifting left and right. “Hmm.” The younger people waited. “Hmm!” He straightened up. “There is something that seems to run from this hill to that one, at least part of the length. But it could be a geologic feature.”

  Rigi nodded. They’d found several geologic or erosional features that mimicked the shape of archaeological sites. She’d stopped getting her hopes up. “How close to this hill does it come, sir?”

  “Several hundred meters, it seems, although… Here.” She stepped forward and looked through the lenses. The other hill remained perfectly symmetrical, at least in outline from this angle, and seemed greener than the surrounding plain, which made no sense. It should be browner because of holding less water. Something did appear to interrupt the grass and other plants almost to the base of “her” hill, which, allowing for the equipment’s distortion, made it a few hundred meters or so. It might be something’s burrow. Statistically, it should be a burrow. Rigi tried to convince herself that it was a burrow and not something more interesting. “The size doesn’t match any of the burrows we’ve found,” a voice said from over her shoulder, as if reading her mind. “But it could be.”

  “Well, there’s one way to find out,” Thad stated. “Stay here, Auriga, and watch for any more of those bird stampedes.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rigi kept her disappointment hidden, but it took work. They never let her go anywhere first, or even second. No, everyone but Mr. De Groet seemed convinced that she knew nothing about safety and couldn’t handle the pink and lavender shooter hanging from her belt. She watched as the trio headed down the slope. As she waited she called up the map file on her data pad and marked the location, lightly tracing a line between the hills. She didn’t save the addition, lest it prove to be another burrow. They had yet to find what made the long burrows, and after her one experience with a hunter-lizard, she didn’t want to. She stayed ready for trouble and looked around, searching for dust or movement that warned of a herd of the big birds that made terror-birds seem moderately sized. She’d never seen grazing fowl quite like these, and one they’d had to shoot had weighed over two hundred kilos. They had heavy bodies and short legs, but still stood over a meter tall, closer to two, and when a group of twenty or more started running they could flatten people. Rigi thought their tan and cream plumage would make a nice feather fan, but didn’t say that. Lukka and a few others had a dim opinion of hunting and of using hides and feathers for things.

  A few birds flew overhead and insects whirred. A slender lizard skittered past the toe of her boot, and Rigi moved a meter or so. She didn’t like staying too still, in case something decided to get curious. The naturalists had assured them that everything aside from known predators should leave them alone, but still, she’d hate to be remembered for having been sat upon by a wombeast or something equally ignominious. And the naturalists admitted that th
ey didn’t know everything that lived on the continent, or the plateau for that matter. Rigi did not find the admission comforting.

  Behind her, something on Lukka’s m-mule buzzed. Rigi went over to the mechanical hauler. A small screen had popped up from the heavy body and Rigi could see Dr. Sanchez on it. “Hello, sir.”

  She could barely hear his voice, and leaned closer. “Miss Auriga. Where is Lukka?”

  “She and Mr. De Groet and Mr. Martinez are investigating a possible earth feature. It runs due north south between this hill and one to the south.” She held her data pad map where the viewer could “see” it. “It may be another burrow.”

  “When they come back, have them call in. There’s a large wombeast herd that may pass near the camp, and something like kitfengs, and the usual predators.”

  “I’ll have them call in when they get back, yes, sir.”

  “Good. Sanchez out.”

  The screen slid back into the m-mule’s “body.” Rigi still wanted an m-mule, even though she had no real need for such a thing. This one stood level with her chest on four sturdy matte-grey metal legs. It had survey equipment and mapping gear built in, along with a small stunner, emergency medical equipment, and room for a number of things. A heavy antenna housing stuck out of the front, but it did not have a true head. Apparently some did, or so she’d read. None of the ones Rigi had seen came with that feature, however. Lukka’s m-mule worked well, but Rigi liked Uncle Eb’s better. While it had more quirks and problems, the military-grade firepower and sensor package had kept him and others out of trouble.

  Rigi drank more water from her pack and returned to her post. The three archaeologists appeared to have found something interesting and Mr. De Groet’s m-mule was pacing along the line behind him, a sensor bundle hanging from its belly. Rigi wished once again that Martinus had come with her, if only for the company. But how would she charge him? He was too small to have a self-charger built in, like the m-mules did. A cloud shadow flowed over the scene, racing west to east, chased by the steady wind. A small raptor of some kind flapped quickly, almost hovering in the wind.

 

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