Authors: David Weber,Jane Lindskold
Tags: #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #General, #Science Fiction, #Science & Technology
“Still,” Marjorie Harrington said, “it does seem dangerous. I’m guessing that many people would argue this is a point against the treecats being sentient.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” Dr. Emberly said. “The treecats obviously knew how to drive the swamp siren off. Remember, humans have chosen much more dangerous environments in which to settle. For example, on Old Terra there were enormous carnivorous fish called sharks. Tours would spread offal on the water to attract the sharks, then send divers down in light metal cages to take pictures.”
“I see your point,” Marjorie agreed. “Even here in enlightened modern times we have people who insist on going hunting with bows—just for the thrill.”
Stephanie had to add, “Think about the risks the colonists here take with fire. Even with the SFS constantly issuing warnings, still, too many fires are caused by human carelessness.”
“What is the situation with the fire?” asked Scott MacDallan.
Karl was opening his mouth to answer when a knock at the door interrupted him. Jessica and her mom came in, accompanied by a much recovered Valiant. The bond between treecat and human had been another element that had diverted criticism from Stephanie and her friends when their choice to go in and help the treecats had come to the attention of the Forestry Service. It was evident that the treecats, at least, wholly approved.
Moreover, Dr. Emberly and Dr. Whittaker’s holo-images of the treecats coming to the rescue of the stranded humans, of how they had confronted the swamp siren, had shown that treecats as a community—not merely those who had been dismissed as isolated eccentrics, like Fisher and Lionheart—were willing to assist humans. This news was already having a marked effect on human opinions about treecats. Diehards might not be willing to admit that treecats were “people” any more than tales that dolphins had saved drowning sailors had automatically stopped fisheries from damaging practices, but the general attitude was much more positive.
After greetings were exchanged, Jessica and Naomi Pherris shared a news bulletin they’d heard on their way over.
“Both fires are officially contained,” Jessica announced. “There are still pockets, but short of something really unexpected, the threat is over. Not a single town or holding was lost. Property damage was reported as ‘minimal.’”
When the cheering died down, Stephanie said somberly, “But even so there was a lot of damage done, a lot of animals lost their homes.”
She found herself remembering what they’d seen after they’d dropped off Dr. Nez at Scott’s emergency clinic. They’d gone over to where Richard Harrington was treating animals brought in from the fire zone so that he could look at Valiant’s injuries. Jessica had insisted that hers—Stephanie had wrapped her swollen ankle—could wait.
Whereas over in the human areas Scott had been able to immediately turn his attention to Dr. Nez, the situation at the veterinary clinic had been different. Animals injured by smoke and flames, sometimes by acting foolishly in panic, waited in carriers, boxes, and crates. Larger animals were outside in trailers. Valiant’s minor burns were ruled noncritical, although Dad had promised to take another look when he had time.
Over to one side of the clinic, waiting patiently, had sat Trudy Franchitti, carriers large and small clustered around her feet. A very limp near-otter lay across her lap. She was holding an oxygen mask to its face. At first, Stephanie had been inclined, as always, to despise Trudy for keeping so many animals captive. Then she had caught a scrap of what Trudy’s father, who was standing glowering down at his daughter, was saying.
“…and you deliberately defied me. What if you’d been hurt?”
Trudy had stuck out her chin defiantly and Stephanie had seen that her skin was smudged with smoke. There were even a few small burns.
Trudy didn’t shout, but her words still carried. “I wasn’t hurt. I couldn’t leave them there to be burned alive or smothered. Anyhow, it’s over. Maybe I’ll just get rid of them, but only after the vet tells me it’s okay for them to go wild.”
“Well,” Mr. Franchitti said, turning on his heel and striding from the room, “you can take his bill out of your allowance.”
So maybe even Trudy wasn’t all bad. Maybe.
While they waited for Dad to be able to look at Valiant, Stephanie and her friends had done what they could to help out. None of them had vet training, but able hands to carry water and ointments were readily accepted. Stephanie guessed that somewhere in the course of this, Dad—and Mom, who was also helping—had figured that they weren’t too mad at her for taking risks.
Stephanie thought about that later that night when the party broke up. She was walking with Anders, trailing the group heading out to Dr. Hobbard’s car.
“You could stay here,” Stephanie suggested. “Karl and Jessica are. I could fly you back tomorrow.”
Anders shook his head sadly. “Dad’s doing better now that the stress is off, but I’m afraid to leave him for too long. You don’t know how…He got really scary out there. I’m still trying to figure out how to write Mom the truth. She needs to know all of it, not just his version, not just the official version.”
Stephanie nodded, thought about risks, then she reached up—Anders was really very tall—and kissed him. It was only on the cheek, but it was a kiss, a real one. The first she’d ever given to someone other than family.
Anders looked surprised for a minute, then smiled. The shadow that had haunted his features since the rescue lifted.
“Thanks, Steph.” He squeezed her hand. “You know, when we were out there, after the car went down, I had this impulse to just curl up, let the adults take charge, since they’d messed everything up by not being willing to challenge Dad. Then I remembered you, how you took risks for Climbs Quickly and all, not bothering to worry about whose fault it was, just because it was right. That reminded me that one person really can make a difference.”
Stephanie felt embarrassed, but really happy, too. “I’m glad. From what everyone says, you were the one who got them going, who pretty much saved the day.”
“Ah, they’re exaggerating. If Langston hadn’t gotten the gear…” Anders trailed off and squeezed her hand again. Stephanie had been acutely aware that he hadn’t let go. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of you…”
Anders paused and she waited for the inevitable, “And Karl,” but instead he grinned again, “A whole lot more.”
He pulled her close for a moment into a sort of half-hug. Then, with a return of his usual energy, he ran for Dr. Hobbard’s van.
As she walked back to the house, Stephanie glanced at her counter-grav unit. She discovered that—as was pretty usual when at home—she wasn’t wearing it. How odd. For some reason she felt as if she were walking on air.
*
*
*
Climbs Quickly sat up near the top of his favorite crown oak. The two-legs had long gone home or to sleep, but he had invited visitors of his own. They had been long coming, for they did not have vehicles that ate distance, but now they were here.
Right-Striped and Left-Striped arrived with Brilliant Images, the memory singer of the Damp Ground Clan. Slightly after, Twig Weaver and Stone Biter joined them, escorting Sings Truly. Ever since the day when she had led the Bright Water Clan to rescue Climbs Quickly and Death Fang’s Bane, Sings Truly had continued to challenge the convention that females, especially the highly-valued memory singers, remained where their clans could keep them safe.
As was evident from Brilliant Images’ presence at this meeting, Sings Truly’s influence was spreading.
The People had already shared images of what had happened over the last several days. Investigation on the part of several clans who lived near the big fires had confirmed that these fires were natural in origin, the result of lightning strikes on crown oaks.
<
Everyone agrees,
> Brilliant Images said, <
that the two-legs worked hard to stop the fires, even before the winds shifted and the flames threatened where they have their dwellings. This—and also how Death Fang’s Bane and her young band came to our aid—show that two-legs are not as uniformly dangerous as the fate of the Moonlight Dancing Clan or those preyed upon by Speaks Falsely would have us believe.
>
<
Yes,
> Stone Biter said. He was a clan elder of Bright Water, not as conservative as, say, Broken Tooth, who still occasionally lamented the day Climbs Quickly had first been spotted by Death Fang’s Bane, but still not certain whether this young two-leg and a few others were exceptions to a generally depraved species. <
But the People have dealt with wildfires before. You yourself admit that the two-legs’ arrival in their flying things caused panic that delayed your retreat.
>
Brilliant Images retorted tartly. <
We still might have been too late. Certainly elders and kittens—even plump matriarchs like myself—might not have been able to run fast enough to escape the fire after that near-pine crashed down over the stream. I am glad Climbs Quickly heard our confusion and brought help—even strange help.
>
Discussion followed as to where the Damp Ground Clan might relocate until their favored area near the bog had an opportunity to recover. The net-wood grove they had chosen was burned beyond use for a year or so, but other well-watered areas not currently in use were suggested.
The debate continued for a long while, weighing this point, contrasting it with that. Climbs Quickly participated, but he was careful not to over-state his thoughts. His opinion—bonded as he was to a two-leg—was considered by many to be radical and suspect. Even so, although the People were not quick to change their minds on important matters, they were also not so foolish as to refuse to see a flood when their feet were already wet.
Or a fire,
Climbs Quickly thought to himself with amusement,
once their fur has been singed.
Still, he thought that the others had not yet realized what the presence of two-legs meant to the People.
Even today, as they have discarded a few areas as unsuitable because they are too near to settlements of the two-legs, they do not seem to have realized that our world has become a bit smaller. Now we need share it not only with each other, but with these strangers as well.
Then Climbs Quickly looked up through the leaves to the stars, thinking of things he had seen, of how these two-legs had apparently come from beyond the sky.
Or maybe the world has not gotten smaller. Maybe it is simply that
my
world has grown much, much larger.