Book One of the Travelers (4 page)

Score!

She did it! Kasha took in a deep breath and slumped in the saddle, the tension easing out of her. That was it. That was the winning goal. They were still in the championship.

She slowly turned her zenzen around, allowing it to settle into a walk.

She joined the rest of the Blue Team's victory circle around the stadium. Although her teammates were holding their scoops high in victory, and the crowd was applauding, what caught her eye was the gar holding pen. There was something going on.

Gradually she understood what she was seeing. A gar was being dragged off the field, but he wasn't injured, he was dead.

Trampled by a zenzen,
Kasha figured. That was the cause of most of the more serious gar injuries. The klees were all riding in close quarters at the last point and zenzens had been getting spooked all around her.

Although uncommon, the death wasn't the surprise. What struck Kasha was the reaction of a female gar in the holding pen.

A female in filthy rags was wailing as if she herself were in tormented pain. She flung herself onto the body of the dead gar. Her deep anguish was palpable; Kasha felt tears sting her eyes even though she didn't really understand what she was watching. What was clear was the death of this gar had unhinged the female.

A klee guard grabbed the female to remove her so that the field could be cleared. The female kicked out at the guard, and her obvious grief transformed into rage. The guard hit her with a stick, and several gars ran to her, pulling her away from the dead gar. Her shrieks chilled Kasha, and she found herself needing to look away as the female wept and screamed, her pale, thin, and dirty arms reaching desperately for the dead gar.

How strange
, Kasha thought, disturbed by the scene.
It's as if the gars have feelings just like the klees.

Y
ou were amazing!” Boon gushed as he and Kasha left the wippen stadium after the game. They stepped into the elevator headed for the monorail that ringed the city of Leeandra. They'd take it to city center, and then from there, they would walk the rest of the way to Seegen's home for their weekly dinner.

“I guess….” Kasha watched the small wooden houses dotting the gigantic trees as the elevator brought them up to higher levels. It stopped, and they stepped onto the crowded platform.

“What's wrong?” Boon asked. “You've been awfully quiet ever since the game ended. Are you injured?”

“What?” Kasha turned to look at Boon. The thick canopy of foliage above them cast shadows across his face despite the warm glow emitted by the streetlights. She realized she hadn't heard a word he had said.

Boon frowned. “Are you all right? You should be purring with pride. Thanks to you we're still in the running for the championship! You tied us with the Red Team.”

“I—I am just tired.”

They stepped into the monorail.

“Of course, you're tired,” Boon said. “You played a powerful game. Here, take this seat.”

Kasha sat, her haunches aching from the earlier exertion. She'd worked her muscles hard, clinging to the zenzen, reaching, throwing, twisting. But it wasn't fatigue that had her so quiet or distracted.

Kasha stared at the leafy branches brushing the monorail window. She couldn't get the image of the distraught gar female out of her mind. The screaming. The weeping.

“You'll feel better after one of your father's feasts,” Boon said.

“That gar who was killed…,” Kasha began. She stopped herself. She wasn't sure what she wanted to ask. She had never thought of gars as having families before, but that's what she felt she'd seen: a gar who had lost her mate, and who felt it as deeply as her own father had at the loss of her mother.

Could that be true?

“It's been a long time since a gar was killed during a game,” Boon commented. “Those Red Team players really were getting out of control at the end there.”

“Here we are,” Kasha said. She got up and sprinted out of the monorail. They would take sky bridges from here.

“For someone so exhausted, you sure are keeping a quick pace,” Boon complained. “Slow down. I played hard too.”

“Sorry.”

“Hey, is that your father?”

Kasha looked at the nearby elevator. Boon was right. Seegen was stepping out of it and onto the sky bridge. Boon and Kasha hurried over to greet him.

“Hello, Father,” Kasha said. “What are you doing in this part of the city?”

Seegen blinked a few times, as if he were having trouble placing them. Then he smiled. “Kasha, Boon. I could ask you the same thing.”

“We just took the monorail from the wippen stadium,” Boon said. “Kasha really made up for last week's game today. You should have seen her play. The way she—”

“That game!” Seegen spat. “It should be outlawed.”

Boon quickly looked to Kasha, obviously surprised by the vehemence of Seegen's reaction. He also seemed worried that he'd said the wrong thing.

Were they going to have this argument again? “I thought you were going to keep an open mind,” Kasha said.

Seegen's dark eyes grew misty. “So many things to think about,” he murmured. “To rethink.”

“What are you talking about?” Kasha asked.

“This world…” Seegen's voice trailed off.

Kasha had never seen her father like this. So preoccupied. So confused. “Are you all right?”

“I—I do not know. Yes. Yes. I am fine. I am…more than fine. I am just…”

“Sir, do you think—,” Boon began.

Kasha cut him off. “Father, Boon won't be able to join us for dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?” Seegen repeated.

“No?” Boon looked at Kasha quizzically.

Kasha shot Boon a warning glare. She needed to be alone with her father. He was acting so strangely—she didn't want anyone, not even Boon, to see him like this.

Boon got the silent message. “Right. I won't be able to join you. Things to do.”

“Yes…things to do. So many things to do. To make right,” Seegen said. “To learn.”

Kasha watched dumbfounded as her father's expression changed from bewilderment to exhilaration.

“Oh, Daughter! There is so much for us to talk about.” He clapped his large paws onto her shoulders. She could feel him quivering with excitement.

“Yes, we will go home and talk,” Kasha said.

She turned to Boon. She hated the worried look on his face. She didn't want anyone to feel sorry for her or her father.

“See you at the forage tomorrow,” she said.

“Till tomorrow.” Boon turned and headed back toward the monorail.

Seegen stood at the rail of the sky bridge looking out over the thick treetops of the jungle. “It is beautiful. I should notice it more often. Why do we take it all for granted?”

“I—I don't know,” Kasha replied. “Let's go.” If Seegen was ill, she didn't want him in the city center. He should be at home, where she and Yorn could take care of him.

“Home.” Seegen seemed to savor the word. “What a lovely sound. What a lovely concept.”

Kasha slipped her arm through her father's and hurried him along as best she could. Every now and
then he'd stop to sniff the air or to gaze lovingly at some tree or view.

Kasha's heart grew heavy.
Is he dying? Is that why he's behaving this way
?

“You sit,” Kasha said as they entered Seegen's home. “I will prepare dinner.”

Kasha went into the kitchen and stood staring blankly at the food containers. Something was happening to her father, and she had no idea what.

She shook herself out of her fear. She piled platters with food and drink and brought it all out to her father. He stood gazing out the large windows.

She moved slowly—she could feel her muscles tightening after the intense playing she'd done earlier.

“Are you all right?” he asked, turning around.

“Me?” Kasha said. “I'm worried about
you
.”

“You're favoring your left side.”

“It was a rough game,” Kasha said, placing the platter on the table.

“Game!” Seegen snarled. “It is no game. It's a form of abuse!”

Stunned, Kasha took a step back.

“Our whole society is based on the exploitation of the gars,” Seegen railed. “We must put a stop to it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We treat them as if they were nothing more than animals, existing solely for our use.”

“But—” Kasha stopped herself. Gars were there for the klees to use. They served a purpose in klee society and always had. Why would her father be so adamant about this? He was even more vehement about
his disapproval now than he had been last week. Had something happened?

“Listen to me, Kasha,” Seegen said. He took her paw and brought her to the sofa.

“What is that?” Kasha asked. She noticed he was wearing a cord around his neck with a large ring dangling from it. The ring had some kind of stone in the center, and what looked like etchings all around the stone. She'd never seen it before.

Seegen looked down at the ring. He took a moment before answering. “It is a gift. And a responsibility.”

“The ring is a responsibility?” Nothing her father was saying was making any sense.

“I had an extraordinary experience today,” Seegen said. He stood and paced. “I met someone very…unusual.”

“Who?” Perhaps this meeting would explain her father's odd behavior. Could he have met with some of the Council of Klee?

“A gar. A gar named ‘Press'.”

“The gar had a name?” Kasha hadn't realized gars had names. Then she remembered that many families named their household gars. They often developed strong bonds with them. “Whose gar is it?”

“This gar is not owned by anyone.”

“A rogue?”

“No! He is his own person. He is not like any gar I have ever known. Ever imagined.” He shook his head. “Nothing is.”

“Nothing is what?”

“As I thought.”

“You're confusing me!” Kasha exploded. “You're not making any sense.”

“I'm sorry….” Seegen laughed. “I'm a bit confused myself. No, that is an understatement. I am completely confused—but exhilarated as well. To think of all those worlds…”

“Did this gar, this ‘Press,' confuse you?” It was hard for Kasha to imagine that a creature of lesser intelligence could have set her father on this bizarre train of thought, but it seemed to be the only explanation.

“He opened my eyes!” Seegen declared.

“A gar?” She was still having trouble processing this. “How could a gar do that?”

“What he told me—”

“He spoke?” Now she simply stared at her father, completely flummoxed.

Seegen grew more animated. “He spoke, he laughed, he explained…so many things!” He looked straight at Kasha. “And he made me question everything!”

“A gar. Did all that?”

“And more!” Seegen dropped to all fours and paced. “I must find out all I can. I have to see him again.”

Kasha stood. This had gone far enough. “Father, stop! If people hear you speaking this way, speaking against our society, of a special gar who changed your whole view of things…people will think you're mad! What if the council hears you? You'll never get a seat!”

Seegen stared at her as if she'd said something absurd. “A seat on the council? There are more important things than being named to council!”

“Like what? What has you so…so…” Kasha struggled to find the right word.

Seegen settled back onto his haunches. “I spoke too soon,” Seegen said. “I realize that now. I do not know enough yet. Not nearly enough. When I know more, then, Daughter, I will tell you. Tell you everything.”

He stared down at his new ring at the end of the cord.

“Fine,” Kasha said. “I don't think I want to hear it anyway.”

Seegen looked at her sadly. “I fear you won't be the only one. This will be a hard battle to fight.”

“Now you're talking about a battle?” Kasha threw up her hands in exasperation.

“All at the right time,” Seegen said. “The right time.”

K
asha rode the elevator inside the enormous hollow tree up to the forager operation center. Today she wasn't going out into the jungle to hunt or to the fields to harvest. No, today she was going to put in air hours. She was going to fly a gig.

She stepped off the elevator onto the circular balcony and followed it around to the tall arched doorway. She entered the enormous room that housed the gigs—the two-seater flying craft the foragers used.

“Hello, Kasha,” Durgen greeted her. “I'll be flying with you today.”

“Will you let me do the piloting this time?” Kasha asked. “Every time we go up together, you take the command chair.”

“You're still new,” Durgen argued.

“How will I learn if you don't let me take the lead?” Kasha demanded.

“You're right,” Durgen admitted. “We can do this your way.”

Kasha felt a thrill of excitement. Not only was she going to pilot, she had actually gotten Durgen to change his mind about something!

“What's the assignment?” Kasha asked as she and Durgen pushed a bright yellow gig to the launch platform.

“We're going to see if the fields are ripe in the far east,” Durgen said. “No sense in a foraging team going all the way out there if the fruit isn't ready. We will pick up some things on the way back, too.”

Durgen started to climb into the gig when Kasha stopped him.

“I am the pilot, remember?” she said with a grin.

“Sorry,” Durgen said. “Habit.”

Kasha slipped into the command chair. It felt good…right. She gripped the joystick that she'd use to control the gig. It fit perfectly in her paw.

So much seemed to be spinning into chaos and confusion. Her father's recent behavior, her own new and unsettled ideas about gars. What was right and what was wrong. She could push all those distracting and disturbing questions aside as she put all her attention on commanding this small craft.

Kasha toggled the power switches as Durgen took the copilot's seat. “Let me get in first,” he complained.

“I know how you like to keep to a schedule,” Kasha teased.

“Do not make me regret giving you this responsibility,” Durgen said.

Kasha sighed. Why did she have to prove herself at every turn, to show that she wouldn't let people down?
Coach Jorsa, Durgen, even Boon, and her own father. Didn't they understand she pushed herself harder than anyone else could?

The overhead blades whined as they powered up. Kasha waited until Durgen was settled into the copilot chair and then grabbed the joystick between the two seats. She twisted it, and the gig raised off the platform and hovered a few inches above it.

“Are you comfortable?” Kasha asked Durgen in an overly solicitous tone. “May I please launch?”

“All right, all right,” Durgen growled, but this time with humor. “Yes, take off.”

Kasha turned another switch and the side rotors kicked in. The gig moved forward and Kasha gave it speed.

Kasha enjoyed feeling the surge of power as the gig launched into the air. The open cockpit allowed a strong breeze to carry the floral scent from the jungle to invigorate Kasha as she navigated the gig away from the launching area.

“So,” Kasha said over the drone of the rotating blades. “East?”

“Take the same route we flew last week, and then I will guide you from there.”

Kasha used the joystick to turn the gig, and pulled on the throttle to pick up speed. She would have loved to really put on the power, but knew that Durgen wouldn't approve. Even though they were friends, he was also her supervisor.

She was glad she had pulled gig rotation today. She didn't think she was up to facing tangs, or even riding on
a zenzen or in a bumpy cart. She was feeling the bruises from yesterday's intense wippen game.

“Careful up ahead,” Durgen warned. “You will need some height for the—”

“I see it,” Kasha replied. They were approaching the outskirts of the city. Trees were taller here, and beyond them, she remembered, were craggy mountains. She'd need to fly between crevices to go east. The gaps in the rock face weren't all that easy to find.

The gig's nose suddenly rose sharply, pressing Kasha and Durgen back into their seats. Kasha brought it level again, and they easily cleared the treetops.

“A slow climb is a preferable technique,” Durgen said.

“But this is more fun!” Kasha said. Actually, she had thought she
was
guiding the gig into a slow climb. It was harder to control than she'd realized.

“So, with the crevice…,” she said. She peered ahead trying to spot the entrance. All she could see was rock.

“I thought you knew all about piloting,” Durgen said with a smirk.

“I thought you would want to participate,” Kasha said. “I know how much you hate being bored. Besides,” she added, slowing down the gig, afraid she'd miss the entrance and crash into the boulders, “if the copilot does nothing, he's just dead weight. Right?”

“Drop slightly,” Durgen instructed with a grin. “But be ready to go into fast turns. You'll need to adjust the angles on the control panel.”

Kasha nodded. She was glad she wasn't doing this run on her own. She vowed to put in more hours on gig duty.
“Here's the entrance,” Durgen said. “Get ready!”

Kasha peered ahead, knowing that she was going to have to use fast reflexes to do the subtle shifting maneuvers required to make it through the crevice. Her paw hovered over the control panel, ready to start the first of the quick turns.

Now!

She turned the control, then reached across the control board to grab the other. Her paw knocked the throttle and the gig suddenly lurched forward. She'd thrown the gig into high speed!

“Slow down!” Durgen cried.

“I can't!” Kasha said. She couldn't risk taking her paws off the controls or the joystick. She worked the switches and the gig responded instantly, shifting left and right, tilting, rounding sharp corners, all at a breakneck speed.

Kasha's heart pounded hard in her furred chest. She sensed Durgen's tension but pushed it out of her thoughts. All she could focus on was the next move. Otherwise the gig would crash into the side of the cliffs. She wasn't going to let that happen.

Durgen must have known she needed every ounce of concentration. He didn't say a word.

They burst out of the crevice on the other side of the mountain.

She'd made it!

She grabbed the throttle and pulled back to slow down. The gig smoothly coasted over a beautiful clearing.

“Well,” Durgen said shakily. “We certainly made this run in record time.”

Kasha nodded. She was too wound up to speak.

“That wippen game is doing wonders for your reflexes,” Durgen commented.

“I had just been thinking that yesterday,” Kasha said. “That foraging and playing wippen use a lot of the same skills.”

“There should be a foraging group around here,” Durgen said, peering at the landscape below. “They went out very early this morning.”

She gazed down at the landscape, trying to pick out the foragers in the fields. She had never harvested this far from Leeandra. It was unfamiliar terrain. Rocks loomed over the group, which was ringed on one side by boulders and a river on the other.

She watched the forage, fascinated by how it looked from the air. The klees stood around the cart, chatting. The gars worked hard, picking and hauling the crop. The klees barely paid attention to them, other than to occasionally jab them with sticks to make them move faster. She was surprised how small the group of klees looked, in among the towering stalks, surrounded by even larger trees. How could the gars be used as protection? she wondered. They looked so weak and defenseless.

“They're almost done,” Durgen commented. “They'll turn around soon.”

A flash of movement caught Kasha's eye, and she looked over to see a tang leap down from a rock. Kasha gasped—she'd never even seen it coming! Its bright green body blended with the foliage.

“The tang!” Kasha cried as it crept up to the edge of the field. “They don't know it's there! We have to help them.”

She hit the controls and the gig tipped its nose down. Durgen placed his paw firmly over hers. “No,” he said. “They have to handle it on their own.”

“But—”

“This is a scouting assignment—we have no weapons,” Durgen reminded her.

“We must alert them!”

“The tang will attack the gars—that will certainly alert the klees!”

Kasha gaped at him, then looked away.
What's wrong with me
? Gars had always been used as the first line of defense.

The tang made its move, leaping onto an unsuspecting gar. The gar let out an agonized howl, and just as Durgen predicted, this sent the klees into action. They quickly loaded what they could into the cart and took off.

Leaving the gars behind.

Kasha's eyes widened. “They're just abandoning them.”

Durgen looked at her, perplexed. “They have to get the harvest back. The gars will take care of themselves.”

“But—” Kasha stopped herself. Once again she was arguing against a practice she'd accepted all her life. Durgen would think she was crazy.

She shook her head.
It's all that talk of my father's last night
, she told herself.

She glanced down below again. The gars were racing away from the area, stumbling over one another, tripping in their haste over rocks, stumps. The tang stood, the captured gar still struggling under its talons on the ground, whimpering, screaming.

The terror of the gars reached all the way up to the gig, up into Kasha's bones. She could feel it. Taste it. She'd felt that same fear herself during a tang attack, desperate to escape, frantic to save her colleagues, her friends.

She had never realized that the gars felt the same way. Of course, she knew they were afraid to die or to feel pain, but today she saw something different.

Today she saw the similarities between the gars and the klees.

Not possible. Ridiculous. That's like saying just because my zenzen gets hungry or resists a command, it is just like me because I get hungry and disobey orders from Durgen. We are not the same. They are—

“You're right,” she declared to Durgen. “There is nothing we can do for them. We should get on our way.”

“Travel northeast. I will let you know when it is time to change direction.”

“Got it.” Kasha adjusted the controls. She pulled back hard on the throttle and the gig rocketed away, the screams of the gar growing faint behind them.