Authors: Julie E. Czerneda
Changing Vision
“I AM CALLED A LISHCYN, FEM ANISCO.
“My species is from a system very distant from yours and this one.”
“Why are you here, Lishcyn?”
I put my hand on Paul’s shoulder. “We are interested in trade with your world.”
She didn’t understand
, I concluded from the way she reached for the main part of her translator and ran her fingers over some controls. Then she brought the device to her lips again.
“Are you shifter?”
It was only the unexpectedness of the question that kept me from reacting. Paul had stiffened under my hand. The Panacians folded their limbs in a posture that indicated resignation and patience.
“I don’t understand the question,” I said reasonably, hoping I didn’t.
“Are you shifter?” she asked again.
“There’s an unidentified problem with the translation machine, Fem Ki,” C’Tlas offered. “Just say no and she’ll move on.”
I looked at the Feneden, held the device to my lips, and numbly answered: “No. I am not a shifter.”
The Feneden took the device from me and began to pass it to Paul. I closed my fingers around the memory of it, knowing the purity of my genetic disguise, trying to assure myself this was, as C’Tlas said, probably a glitch in the translation.
On the other hand, “shifter” could refer to web-talents and the device about to be given to Paul could be some kind of detector. And Paul was wearing the medallion which held a little bit of me in my pure form.…
The Finest in DAW Science Fiction
by JULIE E. CZERNEDA:
THE CLAN CHRONICLES:
Stratification:
REAP THE WILD WIND (#1)
RIDERS OF THE STORM (#2)
RIFT IN THE SKY (#3)
The Trade Pact Universe:
A THOUSAND WORDS FOR STRANGER (#1)
TIES OF POWER (#2)
TO TRADE THE STARS (#3)
***
SPECIES IMPERATIVE:
SURVIVAL (#1)
MIGRATION (#2)
REGENERATION (#3)
***
WEB SHIFTERS:
BEHOLDER'S EYE (#1)
CHANGING VISION (#2)
HIDDEN IN SIGHT (#3)
***
IN THE COMPANY OF OTHERS
Julie E. Czerneda
HANGIN
G
V
ISIO
N
Copyright © 2000 by Julie E. Czerneda.
All Rights Reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-101-64519-2
Cover art by Luis Royo.
DAW Book Collectors No. 1160.
DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
The scanning, uploading and distribution via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
First Printing, August 2000
For Jennifer Lynn Czerneda
This has been the hardest one yet to write, which seems only fair. It was an impossible task from the start. I can’t possibly distill the love and pride I feel for you into mere words. I’ve tried several times and failed. Perhaps if I had an immense and lovely lake into which I could toss diamonds…or some way to coat the near side of the Moon with sapphires…or…you can see my problem. The canvas isn’t remotely big enough.
So I’ll just tell you this, Princess: your Dad and I knew you were something special from the moment you opened your wise blue eyes. You’ve grown into a spectacular woman: bright, loving, and marvelously brave. May you have joy and adventures as well as warm, comfy moments—and remember, the way home is through our hearts.
Mom
Book four. The most fun yet! I’d need a lot more room to respond to all the kindnesses done to me this year, but I’ll do my best.
Thank you, Sheila Gilbert, for your extraordinary efforts to read manuscript during the millennium rollover, despite house construction and visitors. You caught all my lazy and shy spots, improving this story immensely. A special thanks to my alpha reader, Roxanne BB Hubbard, for thoughtful edits and thumping at the right moments.
I’d like to thank the original Lefebvre, Chase, and Sandner for kindly letting me use their names, brave souls. I promised no maiming, but, for the record, your fictional characters have nothing to do with the real you (except any nice bits).
I must single out a particular bunch for their wonderful support and encouragement this past year: my newsgroup. If I’d known all these talented and interesting folks would be there, I’d have jumped in sooner. While I can’t possibly fit you all, I’d like to thank Janet BF Chase, Annette Griessman, Jason FFTS Simcoe, Kim McLean, Beverley Meincke, Matt & Karen Cecile, Nicole Hare, Ruth Stuart, Samuel Paik, Iris Peace, David Brukman, Lara Herrera, Liz Bennefeld, Michael Picray, Tim Bowie, Don Bassie, and Alan Mietlowski. And Anne Bishop, who drops in to kindly share the fun and herself.
My sincere thanks to all those who were so very excited for me during my run at the Campbell Award, including James Van Pelt, Nalo Hopkinson, Cindy Huckle, and Lyn McConchie.
My thanks to everyone at DAW Books, especially Sean, Debra, and Amy. I’m very happy to finally acknowledge the most able and thoughtful work of Paula Greenberg, who copyedits all of my manuscripts, alien names and all. And Luis, you keep getting better. Wow!
Thanks, Jennifer and Scott. Your encouragement and interest makes this a joy for me. (Not to mention your skill at sneaking into my office to see if I’m really working.)
And thank you, Roger. For what this time? For everything.
Chapter 1: Office Morning; Warehouse Night
Chapter 4: Cliff’s Edge Night; Shipcity Morning
Chapter 6: Conservatory Afternoon
Chapter 8: Starship Afternoon; Hiveworld Night
Chapter 9: School Morning; School Afternoon
Chapter 11: School Night; School Morning
Chapter 12: School Morning; Sanctum Afternoon
Chapter 14: School Night; Starship Midnight
Chapter 15: Freighter Night; Shipcity Night
Chapter 16: Starship Morning; Starship Night
Chapter 19: Galley Afternoon; Cabin Night
Chapter 23: Brig Night: Flight Deck Night
Chapter 24: Flight Deck Morning; Shuttle Afternoon
Chapter 26: Hold Night; Hydroponics Night
Chapter 29: Hydroponics Morning
Chapter 30: Hydroponics Afternoon
Chapter 31: Hold Morning: Galley Afternoon
Chapter 33: Festival Afternoon; Gallery Night
Chapter 38: Seaside Afternoon; Shuttle Afternoon
Chapter 39: Shuttle Night; Lounge Night
Chapter 41: Asteroid Afternoon
Chapter 42: Asteroid Afternoon
Chapter 46: Asteroid Afternoon
Chapter 47: Med Room Afternoon
Chapter 48: Storeroom Afternoon; Hydroponics Afternoon
Chapter 49: Hydroponics Afternoon
Chapter 50: Office Morning; Dump Afternoon
Chapter 51: Warehouse Afternoon
Chapter 52: Cliff’s Edge Night
“FIFTY years.”
A drop of sweat coalesced on the bald head of the Human standing at the end of the long table, a drop large enough to create its own runnel over his forehead, hesitate in a bushy eyebrow, then push through to land in one eye. The Human blinked involuntarily, but remained stiffly at attention, as if pinned in place by the glare of the lights aimed his way. “You don’t appreciate the circumstances, sir. There are…”
“Fifty years without a trace, without a sign, without proof, Project Leader Kearn.” Out of the shadows, fingernails drummed a staccato on the table, a seven-part rhythm oddly disturbing to those accustomed to a different number of fingers per hand. “Five decades in which this monster of yours—this evil incarnate—hasn’t shown itself. In which you’ve been unable to convince any of our predecessors that the only one in existence didn’t die that day.” There was a pause as the fingers opened a file. “No one here denies your scholarly accomplishments, Project Leader Kearn. Your research into, ah, yes, into the commonalities of the folklore concerning such creatures—among what I find a frankly astonishing number of species and cultures—has added greatly to our understanding of one another. You are to be commended.” The file was snapped closed. “But even you must admit actually hunting for this Esen Monster is a criminal waste of time and resources.”
“It’s just a matter of time, Hom Slatth,” the Human
named Lionel Kearn offered numbly, finding it hard to control his wild impatience. It was Her fault he was embarrassed like this over and over again; Her fault he had to constantly remind these bureaucrats and their lackeys of the danger posed by such utter alienness.
