Virginia Hamilton (2 page)

“But there was something like it,” Justice said.

“There was?” Dorian said.

“Yes, but it didn’t have the pouches. I’ve seen pictures, I remember—what scientists think the first canine might’ve looked like. It ate meat, too, forty million years before our present.”

“You know that for sure?” Thomas said.

“Well, would I lie to you? I read all about it,” Justice said. “And the canine was called … Miacis.”

“Miacis!” Levi said.

“Hey, Miacis!” Dorian called. “Here, girl! Miacis, come!”

The human forms moved about. They were unlike any the she-one had sensed before. Their mouths moved, uttering sounds. They touched hands together, causing loud and sharp reports that hurt her hearing.

Her withers trembled above her shoulders. The third eyelid of her glowing eyes swept across the transparent corneas and cleansed them of dust. Her ears stood to their full width as her hearing tuned sharply higher.

She was aware. The first time ever being called. Miacis. Miacis! A wondrous sound, as though—she was aware—she had wanted the name and had waited each Nolight and Graylight to have it. Hearing
Miacis
over and over, she felt about to roll around at the feet of the human forms so different from any others.

She held herself back. Caution was the wisdom of the she-one, now called Miacis, and the reason she was healthy and remained uninjured.

But she was also aware. She listened to the name she accepted as hers. She followed the talking from one human to another. Did not move one muscle that this kind would notice. Through her senses, she knew their size. They were larger than she in some ways. They were bigger and straighter than any others of humankind. She scented a wonderful healthiness about them. Miacis watched them, calculating their combined strength.

“But you know, really,” Levi said, “this could be the past.”

“Because of that thing there?” Thomas said. “Not bloody likely. Not with pouches like that. And take a look at the stuff on the ground. Ashes, or something like that. It smells of chemicals. Probably it’s poisonous.”

“I don’t smell anything,” Dorian said.

“Well, I do! Maybe everything was leveled in some big disaster,” Thomas said.

Chem-chem … dis-aster?

The humans stood absolutely still, observed Miacis.

“Who … who was that?” Thomas whispered.

“Well, it wasn’t me,” Justice said.

“Me neither,” said Dorian.

“Levi, was it you?” asked Justice. “Did you catch it? It said
disaster,
and it was trying to say
chemical,
I think.”

“Maybe it was random,” Levi said. Random was feedback unconnected words.

Miacis was aware of this. She discovered she could imprint her own thought to them. She had questioned
disaster.
But the forms were not answering her. She did not like the feeling they gave her.

She extended the well-developed dewclaws of her forefeet. They were like slender thumbs with razor-sharp nails. Her great fangs were hidden beneath the heavy sag of her hips. The fangs throbbed with cold feeling. She desired blood, and gathered herself in.

But something happened. One of the humans came to a hair’s-breadth away from her. She could feel its energy.

“Don’t be afraid,” gently it spoke. It touched Miacis’ head in the center, above the eyes. It moved its hand up and down.

Never had Miacis known human touch. She had not ever dreamed of such a thing. No one had touched her.

“Huum?” the human said. “You like being petted like this? Miacis? You like that name?” It stroked her fur above the ears. “I am the Watcher,” it said. “But you can call me Justice.” It laughed, baring teeth.

Part of Miacis would bite off the touching hand in one swipe of her incisors. Taste blood and suck the bones! But another part of her felt a glow. She spread her forepaws and embraced the kneeling human. Heard it gasp as she caught it in and held it firmly by the arms.

“Stay back!” Justice warned the others, who had moved to protect her.

“But it has you trapped,” Levi said. “It’s got hold of you!”

“Levi, she can’t hurt me. We’re not really here, remember?”

“You don’t know that yet,” Thomas said. “So what’s it got there, if it isn’t you?”

Miacis had hold of the human called Justice. Justice quaked in her grasp and Miacis loosened her hold, but not enough for Justice to get away.

Justice stroked her fur and stared into her eyes. “You’re some kind of great one, I’m sure of it,” she said. “I think I’ll make you my partner in this expedition.”

Miacis suspected some trick. Yet she thoroughly enjoyed the stroking.

Justice closed her eyes and leaned her head against Miacis’ jaw.

Such a one!

She rubbed her forehead against Miacis’ cheek and wrapped her arms about Miacis’ neck.

Miacis aware suddenly that the human was a she-child. Aware also of the warm human arm against her air membrane. She nuzzled the dark curls on the child’s soft, tender neck.

Such a young one, so plump with flesh! Not scrawny and strong-smelling like all the others. Miacis need only turn her head slightly, bare her teeth and sink mighty incisors through human skin, flesh and bone. One bite to break the neck clean, and the head from the spine.

Ahhhh.

Miacis licked the young-one’s neck, where she discovered hairs much like fuzzy fur.

Justice shuddered.

Miacis waited. If the child attempted to escape, Miacis would stun it by inserting her poisonous dewclaws into the soft arms as she held them. But there was no need for any attack. The young-one had begun mind-tracing, with Miacis hardly aware that the tracing had started.

Justice closed her eyes, resting her hand on Miacis’ head. The hand grew heavy. By using her hand, she was able to make Miacis see and feel. Miacis saw and scented an unheard-of loveliness. Places beyond imagining. Words whose meanings she now understood. How green and wild-scented was
grass
with
clover! Barns
—
a backyard.
The
hedgerow!
Words were like tender Dawip bones.

Miacis understood that the humans could become a unit. The unit wished to exchange knowledge with Miacis. It, through the Watcher, informed Miacis of much and asked many questions. The unit sensed that its destiny depended on the survival of others in Miacis’ realm. It worried that it did not know who these others might be. It had found no humans yet. It sensed something wrong, but did not know what that was. It sensed that it had some design, some mission, but had no knowledge of what that was, either.

Miacis trembled. She had never known such power from so few who called themselves a unit. She feared the unit might trap her. She released the human, Justice of first contact, and backed away.

No one tried to stop her as she trotted off as though leaving for good. She circled back and found the four parts of the unit as she had left them. There came gentle probes into her mind from the Justice one who had petted her and named her. These were attempts to free her from her apprehension. But Miacis used her own mental strength and managed to brush the probes aside. She wouldn’t allow contact with Justice again. Each time the she-child wove a thought, Miacis trotted away. Only when left alone would Miacis veer and return.

The encounter lasted for some time. Miacis circled, setting up sense-posts to surround the unit. But the force from the unit dissolved them. She didn’t know whether to run away or stay at a safe distance. She began chasing her long, luxuriant tail—what was she to do? She became dizzy and fell awkwardly in the dust.

The four laughed at her, smacking their hands together.

Such loud noise hurt, like hard blows. Miacis sprang from a crouch and attacked. She flew through the air at Justice and landed on her, hard. The impact should have knocked the she-child to the ground. Instead, Miacis passed right through her. There was no Justice. There was nothing beneath Miacis’ paws.

The rest of them were still. With a ferocious growl, Miacis hurled herself upon them. She slashed with her deadly dewclaws and caught the humans off guard. She struck, and felt triumphant pleasure as she came in contact with solid weight. But her forefeet passed through air. Exactly as before, there was nothing whatever for her to sink her teeth into. She hit the ground with awful force. Howled in pain.

Justice held her hands out to Miacis, walking slowly around her. Miacis found that she had no further desire to attack Justice or any of them. She was awed.

“See?” Justice said to the others. “We can’t be harmed here.”

Thomas looked doubtful, but said nothing.

Justice touched Miacis between the eyes. And, recognizing the touch, Miacis allowed it again.

Poor Miacis,
Justice traced.
You need a friend, I’ll be your friend. We’ll be friends together.

Miacis bowed her head. All fear and ferocity evaporated from her.
I am with you, master.

I’m not your master. I’m not anyone’s master,
Justice traced.
Where’d you get that idea? I am the Watcher, a friend come to visit.

Miacis knew nothing of friendship. She was aware of something dark of the mind. She knew master and its opposite. If she could not bring down this one human part of a unit of four parts, if she could not tear it in pieces beyond its use for anything but food, then she, Miacis, had to be slave.

Soon the Master was teaching her how to bring down a prey, which she already knew well enough how to do. But the Master taught her to bring the prey back to her uninjured, something Miacis had not known how to do.

So it was that Miacis knew herself to be slave. She did not mind. If the Master wished not to be called by the name
Master,
then Miacis was obliged to obey. But now Miacis’ steady vision of the chance meeting between herself and the unit had shown clearly that the Watcher, Justice, was the Master of Miacis.

Miacis now found a new state of peace. Having the Master made her ever more content.

“W
E HAVE MANY LIKE
you at home,” Justice said to Miacis. “People keep them as pets.”

People?
Miacis questioned.

“Humans,” Justice said.

What are pets?
Miacis traced.

The unit had gone back to its own time, and now it had returned. This was its third journey to Dustland and its first day back. It had found Miacis waiting for it by the pool. It soon discovered the animal’s remarkable ability to learn its language from the thoughts and speech of the four.

Now Justice chattered conversationally. She traced in the mind only when it was easier or necessary to do so. She was telling Miacis that pets were friends to humans. “Companions to play with and hunt with,” she said. “Maybe dogs to protect people and their property. And seeing-eye dogs to be the sight for the blind.”

This last caused Miacis’ fur to bristle, for she was almost totally blind herself. At once she was aware that the Master knew she could not see. Coldly, Miacis turned away.

I hunt not for others,
she stroked in the mind of the Master, Justice.
I do not play with human groups. I will not be guard for them! I am the only. I am Miacis, alone.
She held her head high. But she did not mention or even think to herself that there was someone else, for fear the Master would read it. There was someone for Miacis. There was Star.

Justice continued, “Miacis is an olden name, that’s why I gave it to you. Because there’s a chance you might be a throwback to that ancient breed. But you can’t be the single one left. There were so many dogs and wolves all through time. Every one of them except you couldn’t have died out.”

Many, my Master? On my life, there are no others like me. There are cutting and fighting beasts like me with four legs. Perhaps they are your … dogs. None are as strong, as swift and keen as Miacis.

“I bet none of them can mind-trace the way you do, either,” Justice said.

Miacis turned her head away. She was aware that probably she had always been able to mind-trace but had had no one to trace with until now. What she could not do was voice-talk, and that upset her. She wanted a sound, clear and high, like the Master’s; and a rippling laughter, too. Immediately she began to study how such sound was made.

They were all at rest beside the pool the unit had created. Justice sat with her arm around Miacis’ neck, stroking her golden fur. Levi and Dorian were watching the pool with undivided attention. And Thomas was off on the other side, studying creatures Miacis called worlmas and examining them with some of his tools.

The pool was full of creatures like none they’d ever seen. Miacis would not trouble her mind to identify such lowly creatures other than the worlmas with stick-like, pencil-thin legs.

Earlier in the day Thomas had discovered that he could make sharp tools by hewing bones he found in the compacted earth beneath the dust. Wandering groups snatched up most of the bones to mix with their mudsip gruel, so the unit had learned from Miacis. With Levi helping him, Thomas rubbed the bones he found with gritty dust. Even Miacis had been made to help in the new craft of bone-sharpening. But, clearly, she was a reluctant worker.

“This stuff could take the paint off a Ford Mustang,” Thomas said about the dust. He instructed Miacis, “Chew this end of the bone until it’s pointed. Well, do the best you can with the point, dog. Scrape this one until it shreds. I need about five bones shredded into claws.”

Miacis would do as she’d been told only after Justice told Thomas never to call her
dog
again and after Justice said it was all right for her to work for Thomas. But after chewing and scraping the bones. Miacis slunk away. She had moaned her displeasure, her orange pouches swelling and surging.

It was now early afternoon, in Justice’s judgment of the time, and bullet-shaped worlmas were all over the place. Many creatures had drowned in the pool, but worlmas were sucking in the water. They began growing from an average size of a garden snail to that of a fist!

Thomas wanted to kill the worlmas straightaway. But Justice wanted to find out how much water they could hold. She wondered what would happen to the worlmas’ spindly legs under so much sudden weight. The worlmas’ legs weren’t growing at the same rate as their bodies.