Silent Songs (26 page)

"Until Weaver returns," Flies-Too-Fast signed hopefully.

Szu-yi slept fitfully on the floor of the dimly lit, tiny cubicle she shared with Meg. While the heat and humidity of the garishly painted, unfurnished cell and the unyielding floor did not lend

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itself to an easy rest, that wasn't what stopped her from sleeping soundly.

The aliens had conditioned them against sleep to make them more pliant servants--one of their more effective training techniques. Szu-yi could no longer imagine herself refusing any of her captors' requests, no matter how traitorous or bizarre.

Szu-yi didn't mind the lack of sleep. She was relieved to be on the Glorious First's personal carrier, even if she was imprisoned behind a shimmering power field. Since coming into the First's care, she and Meg had been treated well. The food was too high in protein, but it came regularly. There was a warm pool to bathe in, and they'd been given clean clothes. And, occasionally, alien scientists came and discussed things with them.

Neither Meg nor Szu-yi attempted to keep anything from them. Szu-yi had helped develop a pharmacopoeia of behavior-altering drugs, and the aliens had all the information from the
Singing Crane,
so there was no point in secrecy. And Meg had learned what would happen to Szu-yi if she did not cooperate.

Inside, Szu-yi felt troubled. She shouldn't be so accepting, she should be doing . .. something .. . about their situation. .. . She . . . should ... try to find a way to ...

Fear suddenly washed over her in great waves. How many hours had Dacris brutalized her while a recording of her own voice whispering to an unconscious Meg repeated, at maximum volume, over and over . ..

"I PROMISE YOU, MEG, WE'LL FIND A WAY TO ESCAPE."

Or had it been days? There'd been no sleep, no food, just pain and sound and the anticipation of pain as the only reliable constants. Dr. Tato had protested, so the alien physician had been forced to monitor the "training"

and keep Szu-yi pumped full of stimulants. Dacris wanted the human's awareness to be razor-sharp. He said it was necessary for the "conditioning"

to "take." The brilliance of his color had seared her eyes.

The conditioning had certainly taken. She'd never forget that pain, and the betrayal of her own voice. She remembered, too, the drone of the translator as Dacris sang of the rights of the Chosen over the Conquered. The Chosen ... a people who had elevated the ritualized destruction of their conquered victim's spirit to an art form.

She could still feel Dacris' moist, hot hands slapping her flesh, see the rod in his hands .... She shut her eyes tight.

But that was before their rescue. Before the Glorious First took them, and Dr.

Tato, under his own care. There'd been no more

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pain, no punishment. A tear leaked from under her lids.

There was a sound in the hall outside their cell, and her eyes snapped open.

She must not be found sleeping! She must be awake, alert, ready. Beside her, Meg tensed.

The power grid that kept them confined dissolved. Without a word, the two stood stiffly, nervously. Szu-yi began trembling. In spite of their recent benign treatment, she was terrified of unexpected visits. Her eyes widened as two green and gold aliens came into view. One of them had that familiar swagger . . . could Dacris be here, on Atle's ship? Was he coming to take them back?

She realized it was only two guards, and felt a second's relief before wondering what they wanted. Suddenly she saw two
humans
walking behind them, with two more guards in the rear.

"Oh, no," Meg gasped, "no!"

Szu-yi's heart swelled with joy at the sight of Tesa's grandparents. She should be distraught that they had been taken, too, but it was so
good
to see another human, she couldn't help herself. She forced the emotions down, afraid to let them show on her face.

"Oh, Meg, thank God you're alive," Old Bear said and embraced the biologist. The Russian woman returned his hug weakly. When he really examined her, his alarm was plain.

"Are you both al right?" Szu-yi asked final y.

"We were stunned during the capture," Nadine said softly, "but other than that. . . ."

There was a melodic trilling followed by the drone of a mechanical voice.

"They are well," it said.

Szu-yi glanced past the guards. She knew that voice.

"Or so Dr. Tato assures me," the translator whined as the Glorious First stepped around his officers.

Stiffly, Szu-yi dropped into the respectful squat she'd been taught. "Glorious First, you honor us," she said automatically. Glancing up, she saw Nadine's and Old Bear's shocked expressions. Meg, as usual, only turned away.

"Stand, my friend," Atle sang, helping her to her feet. "I hoped you would be pleased to see your companions. We also captured an avian with them. A lucky accident, really."

Szu-yi's heart thudded. She knew the Chosen regarded the Grus as little more than food.

"They have Weaver," Old Bear said.

"This avian is someone you know?" Atle asked Szu-yi.

"Oh, yes, a dear friend," she told him. "Is she hurt?"

"She is unconscious, but she'l recover."

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"Please," Szu-yi implored shamelessly, "don't harm her. She can stay with us here, she can . . . she can . . ." Her brain tried to stop her from saying too much, but her mouth was out of control. "She can be very useful to you. Her mate is leader of all the White Wind people. She's a fine crafts person, as well."

Szu-yi avoided the stunned expressions of her own people, staring instead at the luminous, multicolored eyes of the being who'd rescued her from unspeakable agony.

"That's good to know, my friend," Atle sang. "It would have been a shame to waste such an important animal. What would I do without you?" He turned to the other humans. "My doctor tells me you are all elders. You humans must be a powerful people to so readily send your aged into space. But your days as independent people are over. You now belong to the Chosen."

He stepped closer to Szu-yi, and she had to force herself to hold her ground.

When he reached out to touch her shoulders, she flinched and trembled.

"Your friend here understands what that means. She has had difficulty adjusting, but she
has
adjusted. It speaks well for your species. Listen to her.

Do as she says. It will save you sorrow"--he squeezed her shoulders gently, comfortingly--"and it will save
her
pain. For if you do not cooperate,
you
will not be held responsible.
She
will. As your persuader, she will suffer for you.

And she has already suffered so greatly, it would pain me to discipline her further."

Szu-yi wept tears of terror. "Please," she whispered, "Glorious First, please.. . ."

He watched her compassionately. 'Teach them well, my friend. I would hate to have to witness your punishment."

This'll hurt me worse than it'll hurt you,
she imagined him saying, and bit her cheek to keep from screaming.

"Bring them the avian," Atle ordered the guards. Without another word, the Chosen all left the cell.

"They've taken our nul ifiers," Old Bear whispered.

"It doesn't matter," Nadine said as she gathered Szu-yi in her arms. "We'll be together. We'll find a way to . . ."

The Asian woman slapped her hand hard over Nadine's mouth. Her eyes were round and touched with madness.

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"The Simiu's
smart,
too," Arvis sang. "She's already learned how to maintain the hatchery's water system."

Atle listened as his son massaged him, marveling at the youth's changed demeanor. In the short time they'd been separated, Arvis had
grown.
His body was more developed, his musculature more defined, and his poison patches glowed. More importantly, his son's growth was mental as well as physical.

"But I'm worried," Arvis continued. "She's not eating."

The youth was struggling to understand complex problems. Even now, during the massage, when he would've normally worked in silence to concentrate on his task, Arvis could not keep still. Capturing the Simiu had awakened his conqueror's heart. Atle's pride almost erased the pain of his other children's deaths.

"Her keepers have offered her eggs with half-grown embryos, insect larvae, and even marinated meat from the river animals," Arvis sang, "but she won't eat."

"What would you like to do about that?" Atle asked.

His son seemed confused, but finally said, "Couldn't she live with us? I could take care of her. . . and make her healthy. I wouldn't neglect my own tasks!"

Atle's skin glowed. His son was a Chosen, and craved his own captive, craved to be her master. "She is the only one of her kind here--that makes her terribly valuable."

The youngster said nothing, merely continued the massage.

"Perhaps ... we could bring her here in the evenings," the First sang, "so you could train her. Later, when we take others, she could be yours."

"But," Arvis murmured, "the Industrious can't own anything."

"Yes, of course," Atle agreed. He'd have to do something about that. He would introduce a new law at the next Council meeting.. .. "We'll bring the Simiu here at night, nevertheless. She mustn't die. She'll be your responsibility."

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Arvis flushed. "She'll eat for me, sir, and be well behaved, too. I think she likes me."

Atle sighed, pleased. All the young Chosen thought their servants "liked"

them--if the servants were smart, they fostered that fantasy. Life was easier that way.

"And she's so
strong,"
Arvis repeated, never pausing in his attentions. "As strong as three males ... in breeding prime!"

Arvis' innocent enthusiasm brought the First up short, and he rolled up on one narrow hip, stopping the massage. "And what do you know of the strength of a male in breeding prime, son?"

To the First, breeding was a private, sacred thing. Unlike most servants, neither Arvis nor his sister had ever helped at a mating. How could his son have come by this knowledge?

Arvis blushed furiously.

"I'm not angry." Atle deliberately dampened his color. It was too soon for the Chosen to be breeding here. Something had to have happened in the hatchery .. . where the Simiu worked.

The Industrious servant was so nervous, his song became a whistle.

"Lene . . . uh, told me ... not to tell.. .."

Atle's hindbrain surged with emotion. When he'd returned to his family, Arvis had flooded him with questions about Lene. While many of them were the puzzlings of a child baffled by the politics of seduction, others showed a startling insight into the strange relationship he was developing with the female. But as to Lene's feelings--Atle could only guess.

"Lene is your special friend," Atle reassured his son, "and friends share many secrets, but I'm sure she never meant for you to keep this from your father."

"Yes, she did. 'Don't tell your parents,' she sang, 'especially not your father.'

She said we would be mated soon, and that meant we would have special secrets."

Good work, Lene,
Atle thought. He needed to get back to the topic. "How did you learn about males in breeding prime?"

"I asked Lene to take me to see the Simiu. I'd hurt her, you know.... Lene said she was better now and she could take me to the hatchery, where the Simiu was being trained."

"Did you see her being trained?"

Arvis blinked and thought hard. "Yes."

"In the hatchery?" Atle prompted gently.

"Yes, sir."

"Where?" The egg-producing plant was a complex factory.

"That
day ... she was working in
the
breeding pools... ."

I

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"Lene took you to the pools?" Atle asked bluntly.

Arvis was so rattled his poison patches sweated. "She said you'd be mad."

The First struggled to control himself.
He's just a child!

"She said you didn't want us to mate and have children."

"I want... I only want you to be happy. Do you want to mate and have children?"

His son's marbled eyes lit up. "Oh, yes. That'd be fun!"

"Arvis, what happened in the breeding pools?"

The youngster's throat pouch quivered. "Lene said that the Industrious females fell in love and wanted to lay eggs, so the Chosen males that loved them held them to fertilize their eggs. She says that'll happen to us when the rains come."

It was a clever deceit, the First thought. "Did the females look like they were in love?"

Arvis thought about that for a long time. "No. Everyone there acted like they'd gone crazy. The females were tired and dull and had to be restrained in their pools by harnesses. Their songs were sad. But the males were in love! They were handsome and strong, their colors bright and gleaming! But they were restrained, too, by attendants. That's how I found out about the Simiu's strength-- she controlled the males by herself. I think the keepers were afraid of her, so they moved her out of there."

The Industrious females in the hatchery were the most mentally stunted of all workers, egg-layers genetically bred and hormonally induced to produce continually. Living egg factories with only the vestiges of a forebrain, they were forced to pump out eggs until their last follicle was exhausted. Their short lives were spent in a drug-induced torpor to combat their fear and resistance to the breeding males. Most died in their pools atop their last, huge egg mass, while some low-ranked Chosen male gripped them in a desperate, hormone-inspired breeding frenzy, fertilizing eggs that would be nurtured in special baths to speed their growth. The clear, gelatinous eggs filled with plump, living embryos were a prime food source for the Chosen.

"Lene said," Arvis continued, "that things would be different for us, that you and mother would help."

"Son," Atle asked hesitantly, "are you in love with Lene?"

"Uh. .. yes ... I guess ... I mean ... I don't know! When I'm with her I feel.. .

terrible!
But when I'm not with her, I feel worse."