Changelings (23 page)

Ke-ola, who had been sending his own silent calls to the Honu, turned back from the sea in alarm when he heard her sobs. He swept her up in a huge and all-enveloping hug that nonetheless only circled her lightly within his arms, to comfort her but not break her. “Little sistah, why do you cry? Did someone bite you?”

“No, no, it’s just too sad, Ke-ola,” she said. And she told him about the deep sea otters and what they had done and what had become of them. “If they hadn’t been so afraid of us, maybe they would have saved themselves. They wanted everything secret—well, I told you now, but I guess it doesn’t matter since they’re all dead.”

“I would never tell,” he said.

So she blurted out some of the rest of it, and Ronan finished. While they were talking, the sun completely disappeared and the moon rose. Its shaft fell on the mouth of the river, and within it they saw the head and shell of the Honu swimming toward them. He looked awfully sacred right then, his shell sheened by moonglow and his wet head glistening with light.

“Except for the Honu, of course,” Ke-ola amended. In a moment he sighed and said, “And that’s okay. The Honu knew all about the deep sea otters. He says we should take them flowers.”

“We can’t go,” Murel said. “We promised Mum.”

“I didn’t promise,” Ke-ola said. “The Honu didn’t promise.”

Sky, who had been following the thread through the twins’ thoughts, piped up,
Sky did not promise. Deep sea otters did not think Sky could tell scientists about them, since otters cannot talk to two-legs who are not river seals.

“You should wait till morning,” Murel said aloud to Ke-ola and Ronan. “We won’t be able to find flowers to make leis until then anyway.”

They don’t want flowers,
Sky said again.
Otters have no use for flowers. Why flowers?

Because—because they’re pretty, Sky,
Murel answered, feeling even as she said it that the answer didn’t make much sense. Otters weren’t great flower fanciers unless they sometimes nibbled certain varieties. And then, she doubted the beings that had helped Da and inhabited the strange city were otters of any kind. Maybe some ancient pre-terraforming denizens of Petaybee preserved by their city and resurrected with the opening of the volcanic vent. Maybe aliens. But they were good, whatever they were, because they saved Da, and if the Honu thought they deserved flowers, then they did.

Rocks. Clams. Food. These are good gifts. Pretty gifts. Deep sea otters would like these gifts. Not flowers.

“He’s got a point,” Ronan said aloud. To Ke-ola, he said, “Sky thinks the deep sea otters wouldn’t appreciate a flower lei as much as one made out of something otters value—like rocks or clams.”

“But we can’t make a rock lei or a clam lei—can we?” Murel asked.

“Clamshells,” Ke-ola said. “They used to make leis from shells sometimes. We could net them with seaweed.”

Sky and all of the other otters, including the sea otters who had congregated by the shore to see what all of the excitement was about, agreed that clamshells were best. Dead otters ate no clams but would enjoy the pretty shells. Living otters would have to eat the clams
for
the dead otters. It made sense to them. The tide pools, beach, river mouth, and sea soon frothed around diving otter butts, the owners of which made short work of the whole clams and deposited the shells into huge piles. These they basketed in strands of kelp and other seaweed, enclosing each shell in three or four strands, then tying another strand at top and bottom. It took a very long time. The twins weren’t very good at it, so in the end, Ke-ola ended up with three leis, one from each twin and one from their father, which he, the Honu, and Sky would carry to a place as close to the deep sea otters’ “den” as Sky could guess.

Murel didn’t think the leis were pretty at all, but she only thought it, so as not to insult Ke-ola.

Sky disagreed.
Pretty. Much pretty. Hundreds pretty.
All of the other otters agreed that the leis were hundreds pretty.

So that was all right. If the otters liked the leis, the self-proclaimed deep sea otters would have liked them.

The day was half gone before Ke-ola, the Honu, Sky, and an otter escort set off for the volcano. Ronan and Murel swam out part of the way with them, but kept their promise and didn’t go near the volcano. Well, not very near. Actually, it was hard to judge because, what with all the building up it had done, the volcano sort of met them earlier than they expected to encounter it. At least, the underwater part that was the skirt of the island extended until it was much closer to the northern mainland than they remembered.

It didn’t matter anyway. Once they came to the place where the lava flow had cooled on the ocean floor, building it up until the water was comparatively shallow there, nobody stood much chance of getting anywhere near the place where the deep sea otters had so recently dwelled in their peculiar city.

That being the case, the twins watched when the Honu suddenly stopped swimming and turned back to Ke-ola, treading water, and Sky.
Otters talk to other otters best,
the Honu told Sky.

The twins felt relief from Sky. The little river otter had not wanted to go back to the volcano, because it was a long swim, because he was not a sea otter and didn’t like salt water very much, and because
his
sort of otter had the intelligence to avoid erupting volcanoes. After a number of “Hahs,” he dropped his clamshell lei into the sea with the thought,
Deep sea otters, here are your presents—nice shells, only you are not here and are probably dead.
The thoughts were accompanied by vocalized chitterings and mumblings that were otter verbalizations.

To the twins’ surprise, the Honu and Ke-ola swam back to them.

“As long as you’re here, you may as well represent yourselves,” Ke-ola said, pulling the clamshell lei off over his head and dropping it over Ronan’s. The Honu came close enough for Murel to take his lei.

Since the twins were naturally in seal form, Ronan barked acknowledgment, then dived, letting the lei drop over his head to drift slowly downward before he rose once more to the surface.
Thanks for giving our Da back,
Ronan thought.

Murel followed him, letting her lei drop over her head as he had.

Yes, thanks,
she said.
And we’re awfully sorry you didn’t make it too. You could have come with us. I hope you knew that. Whatever you were, you saved our father. We’d have been glad to help you too.

Then they turned around and returned to the river mouth. Halfway back, they were met by their mother’s helicopter. It shadowed them back to the river, where the twins and Ke-ola withdrew from the water and the twins reassumed human shape and pulled on their dry suits. There was no one there to see but Mum, who recently had recertified as a copter pilot, updating the training she had received while in the Company Corps.

Murel expected Mum to be at least a little angry that they had gone out to the volcanoes, but she didn’t mention it. “Get in,” she said to the two of them and to Ke-ola. “Marmie and Johnny should be docking the
Piaf
in another hour. You’ll need to get ready to go.”

Oh, no! Back to school no matter how much more interesting things are at home,
Ronan said.

But then Mum surprised them by saying, “Your father asks if Sky would like another helicopter ride and suggests perhaps the Honu might like to come along on this trip as well.”

Ke-ola’s face filled with thunderclouds, but he called the Honu, who had been swimming just offshore, and politely lifted him into the copter and sat holding his shell so the flippers would not have to bear the turtle’s weight on dry ground. It wasn’t a lot of weight even yet, though the Honu was several inches larger in diameter than he had been when he arrived, but the flippers were delicate.

Mum had her headphones on the whole way so they had no more opportunity to quiz her about why Sky and the Honu needed to come, unless it was to say good-bye.

Of course, there was always the chance that Marmie’s school might be starting special classes for airborne otters and psychic sea turtles with extrasensory knowledge of natural disasters, but it didn’t seem likely.

The copter set down at the space port just as the
Piaf
was landing. Da and Aunt Sinead arrived, and Clodagh too. They seemed to be trying to look as if they had just been in the neighborhood, saw the spaceship landing, and decided to come and see what was going on, but the twins noticed that their bags and Ke-ola’s were strapped across the back of Da’s mount. Page and Chapter were nowhere to be seen, nor were other mounts for Johnny and Marmie. But when Mum, Da, Clodagh, and Aunt Sinead dismounted, Coaxtl and Nanook appeared from behind them, split up and sat down flanking them, one on each side, like good guardian beasts.

Other than the refueling crew, no one disembarked from the
Piaf
except Johnny and Marmie, who waved and hurried toward them.

“Ah,” Marmie said, “I see the delegation has arrived. What’s it to be then, Your Excellencies?” she asked Mum and Da.

Delegation?
The twins exchanged startled looks.

Before they could ask, Mum answered Marmie. “We haven’t had a chance to discuss it with them yet.” She turned back to the twins and Ke-ola, “Sorry, but with the communications problems, Marmie wasn’t able to get through until this morning to let us know about this.”

“What?” the twins and Ke-ola asked at once. The Honu was not exactly struggling in Ke-ola’s hands, but seemed to want to go somewhere, and poked his head toward the ship first at one angle, then another, his flippers paddling as if he would swim through the air to reach it. Sky stood beneath him, the lower part of his body still but the upper part bobbing inquisitively from side to side as he too watched the ship.

“Are we going back to school then, Mum? What’s all the fuss?” Murel asked.

Mum shook her head, and now she did seem a bit angry. “No. I’m dead set against it, mind you, but Marmie has been pulling all the strings she can and this seems to be the only way. We’ve received permission from the Federation, though not from Intergal, to send a native Petaybean delegation to invite Ke-ola’s people to visit us, and live with us if everyone is mutually agreeable.”

“So, is that what Marmie and Johnny are doing here? Have they found some way you and Da can go after all?”

“Of course not,” Mum snapped, then relented, realizing she was acting angry at a time when she most wanted to be loving. She continued in a more patient and reasonable tone. “You know that. We’re too acclimated by now to leave the planet for any length of time. And we’re too old. To my way of thinking, you are too young. And what with everything happening, we haven’t had much time to catch up or for you to enjoy being home again. But still, if you’re willing . . .”

“We need you to be Petaybee’s emissaries,” Da said aloud. “It’s a lot to ask of youngsters, but Ke-ola is your friend, after all, and you brought him and his Honu to Petaybee’s notice. Besides, it will be a fine opportunity for you to travel, see other places. I’ve never been able to do that myself, you know. And of course, Ke-ola must go to introduce you.”

“You mean we’re going to go see Ke-ola’s people and bring them back?” Ronan asked. “We don’t have to go back to school?”

“Not right now,” Mum said.

“Though I have brought a nice selection of vid courses with me and you can study those if you find yourselves hungering for knowledge on the journey,” Marmie said.

“No!” they both said, but Murel added diplomatically, as befitted her new appointment, “That is, a journey to a distant world and a real mission to perform seems educational enough for now, thanks.”

“So you don’t mind then?” Marmie asked.

“When do we start?” Ronan replied.

Sky suddenly streaked toward the
Piaf.
Otters run very quickly when they want to, as he had told the twins. The Honu’s swimming motions seemed to be dragging Ke-ola in the same direction. “You still got the sacred Honu’s tank, Madame?” Ke-ola asked Marmie.

“A bigger one,” she said. “Of course, if your people or some of them come, we hope they will bring others of his species with them.”

Da handed Marmie a sheaf of paperwork, and Johnny handed the twins some as well. “Maps and such,” he said. “So you’ll know where we are, and if communications clear up, can get in touch. It’s a bit out of the way, on the fringes like Petaybee, but another fringe. Yana, you know—”

“Yes, of course,” she said. There were hugs all around and head butts and rubs from Coaxtl and Nanook, then Da took the packs off the curly coat and handed them to the twins, and Clodagh handed them another.

Da held out Ke-ola’s, but the Kanaka boy was already halfway to the ship, so Ronan took it.

More hugs and, amazingly, tears from Mum and Clodagh. Sky streaked back to them, then back toward Ke-ola and the Honu.

“Better we take off pretty quick,” Ke-ola called. “The Honu wants to go
now.
”

Johnny frowned. “He seems to be on a tight schedule. I never thought to see a turtle in such a hurry.”

“Better go now, then,” Clodagh said, waving the twins toward the ship. They turned toward it, and her bemused comment followed them. “Honus know things.”

About the Authors

A
NNE
M
C
C
AFFREY,
the Hugo Award–winning author of the bestselling Dragonriders of Pern novels, is one of science fiction’s most popular authors. She lives in a house of her own design, Dragonhold-Underhill, in County Wicklow, Ireland. Visit the author’s website at
www.annemccaffrey.net

E
LIZABETH
A
NN
S
CARBOROUGH,
winner of the Nebula Award for her novel
The Healer’s War,
is the author of numerous fantasy novels. She has co-authored eight other novels with Anne McCaffrey. She lives on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State.

B
Y
A
NNE
M
C
C
AFFREY AND
E
LIZABETH
A
NN
S
CARBOROUGH

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Changelings