Hidden in Sight (55 page)

And, on a personal note, I would have lost my family.
Again.

*Clarity* I clicked against the console. *Mutual understanding *

I listened to the words and finally knew what I, Esen-alit-Quar, had to do.

But first, I had to deal with Skalet and her wish for flight.

Otherwhere

 

 

A TUMBLER rolled its way along a mountaintop. This was perfectly normal behavior for a life-form made from an aggregation of compatible crystals, if not a perfectly normal mountain.

Knowing herself alone, Skalet chimed a familiar chord, the one she'd heard each time the Youngest snuck up to Ersh and struck her with a hammer. She'd never understood why Esen dared; she'd never understood why Ersh allowed it.

Until today, when she'd taken orders from the Youngest. Skalet tilted back to observe the sky. No Ganthor drop pods. No assault vehicles. Esen-alit-Quar had succeeded.

What potential.
Ersh had seen it from the beginning. Esen-alit-Quar wasn't simply different from the others of their Web.

She would be as Ersh, one day. The source and repository of knowledge for a new Web, deciding what to share in flesh and what to keep hidden. And, like Ersh, Esen would make those decisions based on her own Rules.

Skalet rolled around the scar in the mountain and found her favorite place to wait. The Kraal valued leaders. S'kal-ru had tasted that ephemeral notion of power, been trapped into a longing for it. She'd been wrong.

Ersh hadn't ruled her Web nor, one day, would Esen. They were something both simpler and far more potent.
And annoying,
Skalet added—honest with herself.

A conscience.

33: Port Authority Night

“I HAVE to go.”

“Because you gave your word. I was there, Esen.”

I ran the forks of my tongue over my tusks to check they were squeaky clean. The quarters Alphonsus had loaned us had included a small, but most welcome 'fresher. “Then why are you arguing with me?”

Paul threw up his hands. He looked himself again, albeit a tired self. There'd been time to clean up and dress, but I think what had most improved his appearance was being Paul Cameron again. Neither of us had talked to Joel Largas yet—that worthy had retired to his ship—but so far, life seemed to be reassuringly back to normal.
And without Ganthor,
I told myself, inclined to feel smug. Paul had even, to my great satisfaction, spoken to his offspring over the com. They'd been charmingly relieved to know we were all right, although busy prepping for launch. It seemed every spacer was anxious to lift as soon as tugs could move their ships into position. The Gem Rush was evidently over.

A first step,
I thought to myself.

Our own celebration had been a quiet one. Most of the staff had been awake so long they'd fallen asleep over their first beer, although the last time I'd looked, Meony-ro was still holding court with the few left. Before he'd gone home, I'd overheard the Chief Constable virtually threatening a person named Naomi into promising more free drinks when everyone was awake again. Humans could be so odd.

My Human wasn't being odd. On the contrary, he was demonstrating a fine grasp of reality. “Esen, you can't let Skalet have what she wants.”

I showed a cheerful tusk. “Oh, but I plan to.” Then I relented, seeing him run one hand through his hair, as he did when I was being particularly frustrating. “She doesn't know what that is, Paul,” I assured him.

“And you do?”

“We'll find out.” I checked the fall of my new outfit. It wasn't silk, but did cover the required areas. And the yellow wasn't a bad choice, given the orange lighting.
No bag or hand light,
I fussed. Paul, of course, wasn't worrying about something so trivial. “I promised,” I insisted, noticing his frown hadn't left.

“You can't trust her.”

Typically Human.
“Trust isn't required,” I told him. “Although if you want to talk about trust, she did give you the antidote to the duras.”

He turned an interesting color. “Don't remind me.”

I tilted my head. “I thought Humans enjoyed kissing. I've seen you do so many times, with different partners. Did you not enjoy Skalet's?”

The color deepened. “You ask the worst—Es—” Words seemed to fail him, then suddenly Paul relaxed and grinned at me. “You're trying to change the subject.”

“Perhaps.” Then I showed both tusks. “But I admit to curiosity.”

“You?” Paul laughed. “Which means I won't hear the end of it until I answer.” He tapped me lightly under the chin. “Let's say it's not like shaking hands, Old Blob. There's an emotional context involved which can be very pleasant—or otherwise.” His fingers drifted to his lower lip. “Skalet's? Was—otherwise.”

“Good. I didn't enjoy watching either.”

Another tap, even softer. “I know, Esen. Did I tell you how brave you've been?”

“No,” I said happily, “but feel free to—”

A knock on the door interrupted my encouragement, which was probably as well.
Compliments,
I'd noticed,
often ended with a discussion of what I could have done better.
I went to answer it.

“Wait.” All the ease gone from his face, Paul waved me to one side and reached for the weapon he'd left lying on the pile of Kraal clothing. He held his finger to his lips when I would have protested. “Come in,” he called.

The door opened. The night-lighting in the hallway showed me no more than a silhouette. Human-sized.

Having adaptable eyes, Paul recognized our visitor and tossed the weapon aside with a glad: “Rudy! Welcome. I thought you'd be down in the bar with Meony-ro, helping him drink to the end of Mocktap.”

I backed away until I felt the wall behind me.

Rudy wore spacer coveralls, presumably from the
Russell III.
There was a slight lurch to his steps as he accepted the invitation and walked into the room. Paul put one arm around his cousin's shoulders. “I can't tell you how glad we ...”

Paul had seen me.

So had Rudy. His face lost its smile and became troubled. “Hello, Es,” he said, no slur to the words.
Not drunk then.
A being with something on his mind.

I was reasonably sure I knew what it was.

Paul seemed at a loss. He took his arm from Rudy, then looked from one of us to the other with almost comical suspicion. “Something I should know?” he asked, the words deliberately light.

When Rudy didn't answer, I did. “Your cousin finally noticed I'm not ‘Bess.'” There was a note of hurt in my voice I could no more prevent than I could settle my third stomach. I shunted its contents to the safer fourth. “He no longer believes I am his friend—your friend. Why do you think I wanted Mocktap's weapon destroyed?”

“What?” If he'd been Lishcyn, I would have expected to see Rudy's jaw on his chest. “No—that's not true!”

“Ah.” Paul schooled his expression into the attentive, noncommittal one he used when negotiating for Cameron & Ki—or when he had reason to believe I'd hidden fudge—and gazed at both of us in turn.

“He was planning to kill Skalet,” I said, glaring down my snout. “He listened to that Kraal. Ask him what he thinks of my kind.”

Suddenly, Rudy looked as angry as I felt. “It's one thing to be told you're almost six hundred years old and quite another to see a staircase worn down by footsteps! Footsteps! Do you know how long that takes? How long someone must have lived there?”

Actually, I did,
but something in Paul's face warned me against reciting facts at the moment. “So I'm on the—young—side of the family,” I said instead, unwilling to leave the wall just yet. I knew Rudy too well not to fear him, if he'd become my enemy. “That doesn't mean we're a threat. That doesn't mean you should—”

“Es. Calm down. Explain to Rudy. Tell him about the mountain.”

I was tempted to burp something unpleasant, but Paul stopped me with that look. “It's where I grew up,” I said grudgingly. “Ersh's home. I told you she was the first of our kind in this section of space. She lived a very long time, but you won't find records of her. Like all of us, she stayed out of sight. The rest of our web-kin would come to visit, share what they'd learned, then leave again. The mountaintop was Ersh's favorite gathering place. She,” I swallowed, “she liked the view.”

I didn't think it would help to add how she'd also thrown me off her mountain to bring out my web-nature, or how she viewed my subsequent terror of the sheer cliff as an aid to faster assimilation. “The room where you and the Kraal waited for us was our greenhouse. The material Mocktap had refined into the flask—” I couldn't find the words and looked at Paul.

He understood. “Ersh died by spreading herself throughout the stone of that mountain, Rudy. The blue substance was part of her body, stolen from its grave.” Rudy sat down rather suddenly and Paul took the seat across from him. “Not some secret weapon,” my Human went on gently. “Not some new and powerful material. The remains of Skalet's and Esen's—mother. Now do you understand why we had to come to Picco's Moon? Why all this mattered so much we couldn't stay away?”

Rudy rubbed his hand over his face, then looked up at me. “I thought—I thought I was handling it all, that I understood. Then Sybil—Mocktap—told me about S'kal-ru, how she'd played this game with her family for centuries, how she did the same with you. I saw the staircase—guessed how old your kind could become. It was as though you were playing with all of us—like—”

“—blob-shaped gods?” I offered helpfully.

“Something like that.”

Paul's lips quirked and I flopped one ear at him. “Skalet's unique,” I told Rudy, taking a cautious step from the wall. “She chose the Kraal form to explore their obsession with strategy—those games. But as much as our true nature dictates how we appear in each form, each form has an effect on who we are. After a time, I believe she began to think as a Kraal. I,” I added soberly, “do not. Do you understand?”

“I think so. I'm trying. But, Esen, please believe me. I didn't come here because I had any doubts about you. You're my friend—my family. I can handle your—unique abilities. I came because—” It was Rudy's turn to halt and look at Paul helplessly, then back to me. “I almost killed your-your sister.”

I blinked.

“Can you forgive me?”

For a being who could resolve a conflict among Ganthor, Tumblers, and Humans—plus a variety of others—I could be remarkably obtuse when it came to my own friends. Of course Rudy had been anxious about how I'd react. I felt all my stomachs settle, along with the universe in general.

But, of course, a Human in full confession mode never knew when to stop. “And, Paul, can you forgive me?”

Paul didn't ask, “for what?” No, he turned his full attention on me, and said in that firm, “there will likely be consequences” voice he and Ersh did so well: “Esen?”

“Rudy did me a small—favor,” I admitted.

The Human in question nodded. I wondered if he had had a little too much to drink tonight after all. “She was concerned you were too gullible—that Group of yours. I could understand why. I mean. Really, Paul. To trust all those people with Esen's secret?”

“So you spied on them for Esen.”

“Well. Yes.” Rudy looked apprehensive. I would have been as well, except the smile spreading across Paul's face was nothing short of beatific.

Ersh.
“You knew,” I accused him. “All along.”

“What sort of conspirator would I be, if I couldn't keep track of the two of you?” Paul said comfortably, ignoring Rudy's frown and the grumbling of my stomach.

“Why let me think I was—that we were—”

“Because,” his smile faded, “I recruited the best people I could find to help us—to help you in the future, Esen. But there was no point unless you trusted them. How could you, unless you checked them for yourself, without me? And it was worthwhile,” he said very grimly, “given what Rudy learned about Zoltan and some of the others.”

Needless to say, his approval was better than being scolded, if puzzling. “You knew I asked Rudy to spy on your friends,” in case Paul had missed the essential detail. “And you're happy?”

“Impatient, might be the better word. I've been waiting for some time.”

“For what?”

Rudy, as befitted a member of the same species, understood first. “For you to act on your own.”

“I do that all the time,” I said rather huffily.

“Not against Paul,” Rudy countered, nodding as if this made perfect sense.

I glowered at both of them.

My Human smiled back, looking vastly content. “Consider it a consequence of my Human parenting instinct, Old Blob. I needed to be sure you'd think for yourself, even if it meant you'd refuse to take something I told you for granted. There'll be no new members of the Group, Esen, unless you pick them. And no more surprises for your own good either.”

I began to sense the possibilities. “So you'll listen to me.”

“I'll always listen.” Paul raised one eyebrow. “I won't always agree.”

Fair enough.
I showed both tusks. “True day starts in half an hour, gentlemen. I'd like to be on the mountain by then.”

Otherwhere