Bebe (31 page)

“Ha,” Bach said again, even more dryly than before. “You’ll be lucky if my first official command isn’t to have you shot!”

Raising his withered hands, the magistrate hushed them both. “Before we figure out who does what and who shoots whom, we need to sort out the problem. What to do with the humans? What is the bare minimum that must accomplish, and how do we do it? Let me ask you, Bach old friend, how would you react if we passed a law, right this very second, preventing you from keeping Pani? What would you do if we tried to take her from you?”

“You would have to kill me first,” Bach said plainly. “And then you’d have to find a way to prevent Pani from escaping wherever you put her. She loves me. She would fight frantically to get back to me.”

“As I feared,” the magistrate muttered. “I had two pets of my own, once. I do not believe your reaction will be unique. These are not merely pets, they are family members. They are friends and lovers. If we arbitrarily force such units to part, will we not be every bit as wrong as when we kidnapped them in the first place? How do we repair the damage we have done without inflicting more?”

Tral glanced down at Bebe, who had crept close enough to cling to his shirt sleeve, her small hands petting at him in her nervousness, only to be briefly distracted by Pani as she shuffled sleepily back out of the kitchen. Draped in her blanket and hugging a steaming cup of black coffee between her hands, she went straight to Bach. When she leaned against him, he lay a comforting hand upon the top of her head. It was a touch both tender and possessive, and watching them together made Tral think. His uncle had loved Pani enough to marry her—to marry his ‘pet’—he couldn’t imagine many other people doing the same. He certainly wouldn’t have.

He glanced at Bebe again, not at all sure how he should feel. He tried to imagine how she might react to being ‘liberated’, a very unpleasant knot beginning to tangle his insides. Would she understand freedom? Would she understand being given the chance to live on her own, to be her own person, or would she think she was being abandoned again? Perhaps even, that she was being punished? And on the tails of that thought came an infinitely more selfish one. For all that he hadn’t known her for very long, the idea of having to return to his solitary lifestyle was not a happy one. Far from it, in fact. It made him almost sick to his stomach. Amazing, how fast a man could grow accustomed to taking care of someone else. Maybe it was the small and defenseless factor. Maybe it was simply a matter of having someone else to talk to or to share his bed. It wasn’t even the sex—that was too new to even factor in the decision. He was going to miss her. He was going to miss that sensation of having an extra body taking up half his mattress space, meekly sliding closer to him when she thought him too deeply asleep to notice, and stealing a corner of his pillow in the middle of the night.

But he would not have married Bebe. He didn’t have that kind of courage, and that meant he had no right to her. He had no right to want to keep her. People didn’t keep people, anyway.

He caught the magistrate watching them, and for an instant thought he glimpsed a trace of careful calculation before the old man asked, “And you? How will your Bebe react to being pulled from your protective side?”

“She’s not...she’s not mine,” Tral hedged uncomfortably, winning another hard laugh from Bach.

“Is she not?” Remeik’s look said he suspected differently, particularly when Bebe surreptitiously slipped one of her small hands into his, as if to reassure herself that everything was still all right. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Answer the question anyway, for idle curiosity’s sake.”

Tral couldn’t. He didn’t want to think about it, but in his mind’s eye he could already see her blue eyes filling with worried tears.

“Hm,” Remeik said as the silence stretched on. “I ask again: What do we do? Shall we segregate the little beasts from ourselves? Shall we send them back to Earth and wish them all the very best of luck?”

“They would not be welcomed there,” Bach said flatly. “Pani was imprisoned upon her return. I doubt if any of our humans would be more kindly received.”

“Nor should they be when so many have been born here, by our will and genetic tampering.” Making his way to a cushioned chair, the old magistrate lowered himself to sit. That brought his head to a level with Bebe’s. He smiled at her, though she did not return it. “Do you think she could survive on Earth any easier than she does here? Could she adjust?”

“No.” Tral felt sick. “I really don’t think she could.”

“The Preserve is twenty-five thousand acres,” Bach said. “We’ll build a human civilization separate from our own right here. A refuge, so to speak.”

“Against their will?” the magistrate pointedly asked again. “Shall we set armed guards along the perimeter, keeping humans safely inside the fence and former owners desperate to regain their company out?”

“We’ll give each person a choice,” Bach said firmly. “Let each individual select where he would prefer to make his home.”

“Ah yes,” the magistrate smiled thinly. “I can see it plainly now. We’ll go house to house throughout every cityship and rural town, ripping the abused and the beloved alike from their lives, traumatizing everyone as we put the question to each man in turn: Would you like to stay here or go to a refuge and live in a cave?”

“We’ll build houses for them, bring them food and clothes, and continue to provide for them,” Bach argued, frowning. “Only we’ll do it here, where the abuse can stop.”

“An expensive venture,” the magistrate added.

“One which we, by our very actions, deserve to pay.”

“You won’t be magistrate for very long with that kind of attitude.”

“We could teach them how to fend for themselves,” Tral spoke up. “Anyone who’s ever spent more than a minute with a human knows how fast they learn, how independent most are. Eventually, some will be able to build their own houses, grow their own food, make their own clothes. The wild pack has been doing that with nothing more than primitive spears and rock tools for years.”

“So the solution we shall present to the populace is, we trade one planet-wide prison for another twenty-five thousand acres wide.” The magistrate gave them both the same meaningful stare.

“Temporarily,” Tral nodded. “Yes.”

“And then?”

“We integrate them back into society. As citizens instead of pets.” When Bach and the magistrate both stared at him in silent, dark-eyed calculation, Tral had the near uncontrollable urge to tap his fingertips together. He gave Bebe’s hand another squeeze instead. “Life as everybody knows it will have to change. Maybe for the better, maybe not. But I agree with my uncle, segregation should be the first step. For everyone.”

“Except Pani,” Bach said flatly.

“Everyone,” Tral repeated. “Otherwise, we’ll have no way of separating the abused from the cherished, the willing from the captive, and probably more importantly, it’ll look like we’re allowing those in positions of power get to keep their ‘pets’ when no one else can.”

“Not,” his uncle growled, glaring at them both, “Pani.”

“Foster guards,” the magistrate said, sitting up a little straighter, his expression brightening just a shade. “We will initiate a fostering program to allow well-cared for humans to remain with the families they love.”

“How do we tell the difference between those that truly care for their humans and those who don’t want to lose an expensive piece of property? Especially if they’re...” Tral hesitated, glancing sidelong at his uncle. He almost said ‘perverted’, except that he could now lump himself into that category as well.

Bach arched a sarcastic brow. “Dipping their pens in a tighter fountain?”

Tral could feel himself starting to flush. “All I’m saying is, our own kind will go to all lengths to hide evidence of abuse against them. After living with Bebe, I don’t believe the humans will be any more forthcoming. I particularly don’t see them leaving their existing situations simply because we offer them some unseen, unknown ‘safe haven’?”

“They might,” Remeik interrupted. “If it were another human doing the offering. We would need an ambassador, a well-known face to champion the cause.” Smiling, he beckoned Bebe to him. “Come here, child. I am old and—” His smile widened. “—almost toothless. You need have no fear of me.”

Tral didn’t believe him for a second, and he didn’t blame Bebe at all when she hesitated, casting nervous glances up at him before reluctantly letting go of his hand. She slipped past his leg, fingers tapping away as she approached the magistrate. When he held out his hand, she stared at it for a long time before reaching back for him and allowing herself to be drawn right up to stand at his knee.

“So,” he took her tiny hands in his. “These are the fingers that have shattered the world as we know it.” He drew himself stiffly upright, eyes raised to the ceiling as he sought back through the dusty recesses of his mind for a half-forgotten memory. “Let’s see. It’s been years since last I practiced this at my ailing grandmother’s knee.”

Releasing her hands, he slowly began to sign.
Tell me, child, how did you come to be in this place? Tell me the tale of you.

* * * * *

The sun was rising high above the tree line when the transport set down within sight of the southern-ridge caves. Tral got out first. To say he was a little nervous was the understatement of the century, and this century was very quickly about to become chock-full of monumental understatements.

He looked cautiously through the snow-laden trees, his eyes falling first upon the thin thread of smoke rising from the far hillside, to the leathered hide that covered the entrance of the cave, and finally came to rest on the freshly-skinned ground rats hanging over a branch in a far tree.

“Are they in residence?” Bach asked, from the passenger side of the transport.

“Yes.”

“Do they know we’re here?”

There was only a slight movement at the drawn hide. While it might have been caused by a faint winter breeze, Tral doubted it. “Probably. By now I’m sure they’ve all learned to dread the sound of transport engines.”

“Are they scrambling for spears?”

“Almost certainly.”

The two men paused, both lost in his own thoughts, each likely questioning the wisdom of what they were about to do. Tral definitely was. But this was important and long overdue, and he didn’t want to put it off any longer. He sighed, steaming the air with his breath. “I’ll get the chairs.”

As he walked around to the rear of the vehicle, the car gently rocked and Bach stepped out into the snow. He too studied the far hillside. His mouth tightened with disapproval before, steaming the air with a heavy sigh, he turned and opened the back door for Pani and Bebe.

“Stay close,” he told them, no doubt regretting not having brought his personal guard. This was to be a private meeting, however. One that could easily end disastrously and with very far-reaching consequences for every human in the empire. The fewer witnesses there were, the easier it would be to cover-up if the worst case scenario occurred.

Unless, of course, they got killed. Tral tried not to think about that.

Lugging three folding chairs in his arms, he walked a good twenty feet from the vehicle toward the summit of the hill they’d parked on. Bebe and Pani followed close at his heels until Bach called out, “That’s plenty far enough.”

Tral didn’t think so, but he stopped and set the chairs up anyway, one facing the car and the other two side by side overlooking the cave.

Don’t go!
Bebe signed to him when he started to back away.

“I won’t leave you here,” he promised, then thumbed back over his shoulder at his frowning uncle. “I’ll be right there, watching you the whole time.”

I don’t want to do this.

“I know. But we need to talk to them, and I don’t think they’ll come if they don’t see you out here. Being an ambassador sometimes means doing things you don’t want to, especially if the potential outcome might bring about good things.”

Her beautiful blue eyes were tearing.
I don’t want to be an ambassador. Nobody even asked me!

“There’s a lot of that going around. I tell you what though, you get elected magistrate and I promise we’re going to fix the electoral process.”

Bebe glanced sideways at Pani when the older woman spoke encouragement in English, and then focused worried eyes back on the distant cave. Her fingers tapped nervously together, then rubbed at the seams of the cream-colored snowsuit she wore. It had taken all morning just to get her into the thing, and then a lot of hard talking the whole way here to keep her dressed. She didn’t deal with change well under the best of circumstance, and that she fully expected to be dumped on the humans’ doorstep was etched into every worried line on her face. That she was also fighting back tears shone just as brightly in the watery blue depths of her eyes. She was struggling to blink them back and she was struggling to trust him.

Tral dropped to one knee in the snow, cupping her small shoulders in his hands. “You know why we have to do this.”

So the people can come here and not be afraid
, she signed quickly back.
But not me, right? I stay with you. Right?

“I will not leave you here,” he promised. “Not unless you want to stay.”

I don’t.

“Then let’s tell them what we came to say, and then you and I can go home where it’s warmer.”

And have sex
, she signed, some of the worry leaving her features.
Lots of sex
.

“That should go without saying.” Starting to smile, he turned her towards the chair and gave her a pat on her well-padded butt.

Fingers tapping constantly, she followed Pani’s example, her tiny feet crunching through the snow as she circled around to sit down. But she did it reluctantly, looking back at him over her shoulder all the way.

“What was all that?” Bach asked once Tral returned to the transport.

“Just making sure she won’t be abandoned.” Folding his arms across his chest and trying not to shiver, Tral leaned against one door. “If I ever find her past owners, I’m going to have them arrested. That’s got to be one of the best benefits to becoming the foster guard to an ambassador. I’ve got power now; people are going to fear me.”