Part 17 (1/2)

”Shori,” he said, making a greeting of my name.

Of course, he was a stranger to me. ”You're Daniel Gordon?” I asked.

He frowned.

”If you and your people are this alert,” I said, ”you must know what's happened to my family-to my mothers, my sisters, my brothers, and my father. It almost happened to me, too. I had a serious head injury. Because of it, I don't remember you at all. I don't remember any part of my life before getting hurt. So I have to ask: Are you Daniel Gordon?”

After what seemed to be a long while, he answered, ”Yes, I'm Daniel.”

”Then I need to talk with you about what's happened to my family and, very nearly, to me and my symbionts.”

Daniel looked at Wright, at our joined hands, at the two women in the car. Finally, he nodded. ”You and your people are welcome here,” he said.

There was an almost-silent withdrawal of armed watchers. I saw a few of the humans around Daniel's house and the houses of his nearest neighbors lower their guns and turn away. I turned to the car and beckoned to Brook and Celia.

They came out of the car and up to us, and Daniel looked at them, lifted his head and sampled their scent, then looked at me again. He recognized them. I could see that in his expression-realization and surprise.

”Those two ...” He frowned. ”They aren't yours, Shori.”

”They were my father's and my brother Stefan's. They're with me now.” I knew they smelled wrong, but if he knew what had happened to my family, he must know why they smelled the way they did-of both the dead and the living.

”We must question them,” he said. ”We've heard what happened on the radio, read about it in the newspaper, seen it on television. Two of my fathers even went up to look around. And yet even they don't understand any of this. Who did these things?”

”We'll share everything we know,” I said, ”although that isn't much. We came here because we need help against the a.s.sa.s.sins.”

”Who are they? Do you have any idea?”

”We don't know who they are, but we killed some of them when they attacked us.” And I repeated, ”We'll tell you all we can.”

”How did you survive?”

I sighed. ”Call your brothers and your fathers from the shadows, and let's go into your house and talk.”

His fathers and brothers had gathered around us in near silence and just far enough away to prevent my symbionts from seeing them. They were listening and sampling our scents and looking us over. I didn't see that it would do them any harm to examine us in comfort and with courtesy.

Perhaps Daniel thought so, too. He turned, opened his door, switched on a light, and stood aside. ”Come in, Shori,” he said. ”Be welcome.”

We went up the steps into the house, into a large room of dark wood and deep green wallpaper. A large flat-screen television set covered much of one end wall. Beneath it on shelves was a large collection of tapes and DVDs. At the opposite end of the room was a ma.s.sive stone fireplace. Along one side wall there were three windows, each as big as the front door, and between them and alongside them, there were tall bookcases filled with books. On the other side wall there were photographs, dozens of them, some in black and white, some in color, most of them of outdoor scenes-woods, rivers, huge trees, rock cliffs, waterfalls. They would have been beautiful if they had not been so crowded together.

There were a great many chairs and little tables around the room. We and the brothers and fathers who came in after us found places to sit. Wright, Celia, Brook, and I sat together on a pair of two-person seats at the fireplace end of the room. The fathers and brothers Gordon sat around us, surrounding us on three sides, crowding us. Our world was suddenly filled with tall, pale, vaguely menacing, spidery men, and I was annoyed with them for being even vaguely menacing and scaring my symbionts. I watched them, wondering why I was not afraid. They seemed to want me to be afraid. They stared at the four of us in silence that was as close to hostile as silence could be. Or maybe they only wanted my symbionts to be afraid.

My symbionts were were afraid. Even Wright was afraid, although he tried to hide it. He couldn't hide his scent, though. Celia and Brook didn't try to hide their fear at all. afraid. Even Wright was afraid, although he tried to hide it. He couldn't hide his scent, though. Celia and Brook didn't try to hide their fear at all.

I looked at Daniel who sat nearest to me. ”Do you believe that I or my people murdered my families?”

He stared back at me. ”We don't know what happened.”

”I didn't ask you what you knew. I asked whether you believe that I or my people murdered my families?”

He glanced back at his fathers and brothers. ”I don't. I don't even believe you could have.”

”Then stop scaring my symbionts. If you have questions, ask them.”

”You're a child,” one of the older men said. ”And the two women with you are not your symbionts.”

I looked at him with disgust. He had already heard me answer this. I repeated the answer exactly: ”They were my father's and my brother Stefan's. They're with me now.”

”You don't have to keep them,” he said. ”They can have a home here ... if you took them only out of duty.”

”They're with me now,” I repeated.

The older man took a deep breath. ”All right,” he said. ”Tell us what you know, Shori.” And the pressure on us eased somehow, as it had when the guns were lowered outside. I felt it, even though I hadn't been afraid. I looked at my symbionts and saw that they felt it, too. They were relaxing a little.

I turned back to face the Gordons and sighed. After a moment of gathering my thoughts, I summarized the things that had happened to me. I talked about awakening amnesiac in the cave, about Hugh Tang, finding the ruin, finding Wright, and later finding my father, who told me that the ruin had been the community of my mothers, then losing my father and all of his community except Celia and Brook, going to the Arlington house and almost dying there, discovering that our attackers were all human ...

One of the Gordons interrupted to ask, ”Were you able to question any of them?”

I shook my head. ”We killed several of them. The rest escaped. We only just escaped ourselves. The fire had attracted attention, and I didn't want to have to deal with firemen or the police.”

”You weren't seen,” Daniel said. ”Or if you were, it's being kept very secret. There's been nothing in the media about cars escaping the scene, and none of the sources my fathers created have phoned to tell us about anyone escaping. The police seem very frustrated.”

”Good,” I said. ”I mean I didn't know whether or not we were seen. We spent the next night in our cars in the woods. Then, because Brook had been here once, I thought I could get her to bring us back here.”

A Gordon who looked about fifty and who was, almost certainly, one of the two oldest people present spoke with quiet courtesy: ”May we question your symbionts?” He had a British accent. I had heard BBC reporters on Wright's radio back at the cabin talking the way this man did.

I looked at Celia and Brook, then at Wright. ”It's all right,” I said. ”Tell them whatever they want to know.” They looked alert but not afraid or even uncomfortable. I nodded to the older man. ”All right,” I said. ”By the way, what's your name?”

”I'm Preston Gordon,” he said. ”I'm sorry. We should all introduce ourselves.” And they did. Preston and Hayden were the two oldest. They were brothers and looked almost enough alike to be twins, except that Hayden was taller and Preston had a thicker mop of white-blond hair. Their sons were Wells, Manning, Henry, and Edward. And they in turn were the fathers of Daniel, Wayne, Philip, and William. William was, I suspected, only fifteen or twenty years older than I was. Although no one said so, I got the impression that I'd met most of them, perhaps all of them, before. What did it say to them that I couldn't remember any of them now? It embarra.s.sed me, but there was nothing I could do about it.

Preston directed his first question to Brook. ”Did you recognize anyone among those your group killed? Had you seen any of them before?”

”No,” Brook told him. ”I didn't get to see all their faces, but the ones I saw, I had never seen before.”

William asked, ”How many did you kill, Shori, you personally, I mean.”

”Three,” I said surprised. ”Why?”

”Three men,” he said and grinned. ”You must be stronger than you look.”

I frowned because that was a foolish thing to say. Of course I was stronger than I looked, just as he was stronger than he looked.

Daniel said, ”Shori, we didn't know about your mothers. There was apparently no news coverage. Do you know why that was?”

”Iosif and two of my brothers covered it up. He said they did. And even so, there was some local coverage. He convinced local reporters and apparently the police that my mothers' community had been abandoned, that someone burned a cl.u.s.ter of abandoned houses. That's news, but it's not important news. And he saw to it that some of my mothers' neighbors kept an eye on the place. He thought the killers might come back to gloat.”

Preston shook his head. ”I see. Iosif must have worked very hard to keep things quiet. Brook, did he say anything to you about his effort to cover up and, perhaps, about his effort to investigate?”