Part 53 (1/2)

There was a long silence. When Robert asked for other suggestions, the humans and remaining chims remained silent. At least when Prathachulthorn had been here, dominating the discourse and the mood, there had been his overbearing confidence to override their doubts. Now their situation came home to them again. They were a tiny army with only limited options. And the enemy was about to set into motion things and events they could not even understand, let alone prevent.

Athaclena waited until the atmosphere was thick with gloom. Then she said four words. ”We need my father.”

To her surprise, both Robert and Lydia nodded. Even when orders finally arrived from the Council-in-Exile, those instructions would likely be as confused and contradictory as ever. It was obvious that they could use good advice, especially with matters of Galactic diplomacy at stake.

At least the McCue woman does not share Prathachulthorn's xenophobia, Athaclena thought. She found herself forced to admit that she approved of what she kenned of the Earthling female's aura.

”Robert told me you were sure your father was alive.” Lydia said. ”That's fine. But where is he? How can we find him?”

Athaclena leaned forward. She kept her corona still. ”I know where he is.”

”You do?” Robert blinked. ”But ...” His voice trailed off as he reached out to touch her with his inner sense, for the first time since yesterday. Athaclena recalled how she felt then, seeing him holding Lydia's hand. She momentarily resisted his efforts. Then, feeling foolish, she let go.

Robert sat back heavily and exhaled. He blinked several times. ”Oh.” That was all he said.

Now Lydia looked back and forth, from Robert to Athaclena and back again. Briefly, she shone with something faintly like envy.

I, too, have him in a way that you cannot, Athaclena mused. But mostly, she shared the moment with Robert.

”. . . N'tah'hoo, Uthacalthing,” he said in GalSeven. ”We had better do something, and fast.”

77 Fiben and Sylvie She awaited him as he led Tycho up the trad emerging out of the Valley of Caves. She sat patiently next to an overhanging fip pine, just beyond a switchback, and only spoke when he drew even. ”Thought you'd just sneak out without saying goodbye, did you?” Sylvie asked. She wore a long skirt and kept her arms wrapped around her knees.

He tied the horse's tether to a tree limb and sat down next to her. ”Nah,” Fiben said. ”I knew I wouldn't be so lucky.”

She glanced at him sidelong and saw that he was grinning. Sylvie sniffed and looked back into the canyon, where the early mists were slowly evaporating into a morning that promised to be clear and cloudless. ”I figured you'd be heading back.”

”I have to, Sylvie. It's-”

She cut him off. ”I know. Responsibility. You have to get back to Gailet. She needs you, Fiben.”

He nodded. Fiben didn't have to be reminded that he still had a duty to Sylvie as well. ”Um. Dr. Soo came by, while I was packing. I . . .”

”You filled the bottle she gave you. I know.” Sylvie bowed her head. ”Thank you. I consider myself well paid.”

Fiben looked down. He felt awkward, talking around the edges of the topic like this. ”When will you-”

”Tonight, I guess. I'm ready. Can't you tell?”

Sylvie's parka and long skirt certainly hid any outward signs. Still, she was right. Her scent was undisguised. ”I sincerely hope you get what you want, Sylvie.”

She nodded again. They sat there awkwardly. Fiben tried to think of something to say. But he felt thick headed, stupid. .Whatever he tried, he knew, would surely turn out all wrong.

Suddenly there was a small rustle of motion down below, where the switchbacks diverged into paths leading in several directions. A tall human form emerged around a rocky bend, jogging tirelessly. Robert Oneagle ran toward a junction in the narrow trails, carrying only his bow and a light backpack.

He glanced upward, and on spotting the two chims he slowed. Robert grinned in response as Fiben waved, but on reaching the fork he turned southward, along a little-used track. Soon he had disappeared into the wild forest.

”What's he doing?” Sylvie asked.

”Looked like he was running.”

She slapped his shoulder. ”I could see that. Where is he going?”

”He's gonna try to make it through the pa.s.ses before it snows.

”Through the pa.s.ses? But-”

”Since Major Prathachulthorn disappeared, and since time is so short, Lieutenant McCue and th' other Marines agreed they'd go along with the alternative plan Robert and Athaclena have cooked up.”

”But he's running south,” Sylvie said. Robert had taken the little-used trail that led deeper into^the Mulun range.

Fiben nodded. ”He's going looking for somebody. He's the only one who can do the job.” It was obvious to Sylvie from his tone that that was all he would say about the matter.

They sat there for a little while longer in silence. At least Robert's brief pa.s.sage had brought a welcome break in the tension. This is silly, Fiben thought. He liked Sylvie, a lot. They had never had much chance to talk, and this might be their last opportunity!

”You never . . . you never did tell me about your first baby,” he said in a rush, wondering, as the words came out, if it was any of his business to ask.

Of course it was obvious that Sylvie had given birth before, and nursed. Stretch marks were signs of attractiveness in a race a quarter of whose females never bred at all. But there is pain there as well, he knew.

”It was five years ago. I was very young.” Her voice was level, controlled. ”His name was-we called him Sichi. He was tested by the Board, as usual, but he was found . . . 'anomalous.' ”

”Anomalous?”

”Yes, that was the word they used. They cla.s.sified him superior in some respects . . . 'odd' in others. There were no obvious defects, but some 'strange' qualities, they said. A couple of the officials were concerned. The Uplift Board decided they'd have to send him to Earth for further evaluation.

”They were very nice about it.” She sniffed. ”They offered me the choice of coming along.”

Fiben blinked. ”You didn't go, though.”

She glanced at him. ”I know what you're thinking. I'm terrible. That's why I never told you before. You'd have refused our deal. You think I'm an unfit mother.”

”No, I-”

”At the time it seemed different, though. My mother was ill. We didn't have a clan-family, and I didn't feel I could just leave her in the care of strangers, an' probably never see her again.

”I was only a yellow card at the time. I knew my child would get a good home on Earth or ... Either he'd find favored treatment and be raised in a high-caste neo-chimp home or he'd meet a fate I didn't want to know. I was so worried we would go all that way and they would only take him away anyway. I guess I also dreaded the shame if he was declared a Probationer.”

She stared down at her hands. ”I couldn't decide, so I tried to get advice. There was this counselor in Port Helenia, a human with the local Uplift Board. He told me what he thought th' odds were. He said he was sure I'd given birth to a Probie.

”I stayed behind when they took Sichi away. Six ... six months later my mother died.”

She looked up at Fiben. ”And then, three years after that, word came back from Earth. The news was that my baby was now a happy,'well-adjusted little blue card, growing up in a loving blue-card family. And oh, yeah, I was to be promoted to green.”

Her hands clenched. .”Oh, how I hated that d.a.m.ned card! They took me off compulsory yearly contracept injections, so I didn't have to ask permission anymore if I wanted to conceive again. Trusted me to control my own fertility, like an adult.” She snorted. ”Like an adult? A chimmie who abandons her own child? They ignore that, and promote me because he pa.s.ses some d.a.m.n tests!”

So, Fiben thought. This was the reason for her bitterness, and for her early collaboration with the Gubru. Much was explained.

”You joined Irongrip's band out of resentment against the system? Because you hoped things might be different under the Galactics?”