Tesa could feel it . " I shouldn ' t blame Rob ... I've gotten so used to avoiding the subject, I don ' t think I ever told him." She took a deep
breath.
"It was the Aquila that killed Water Dancer and his entire family , Tesa .
They car ri ed the Grus' futu re leader away like a chicken and ate him.
They lifted him ... so close to us, so close to Scott ..." Meg trailed off, lost in bitter memo ri es.
"The cameras filmed the whole thing. Later, I made myself watch it ... I had to know . That sukin sin hauled Water Dancer up over the ri se as if he knew that . .. Dancer would have to call out to his people , to wa rn them ... he had to, even though he knew his call would hu rt Scott ..."
Meg swallowed. "They were f ri ends , Tesa. Good f ri ends . Alien to each other , but still ... Scott watched Water Dancer be car ri ed off for lunch and Dancer watched his wa rn ing to his people kill his f ri end."
Tesa gaped at her , stunned.
"You must never bri ng the Aquila up! Don't even mention their name to
the Grus . It's their worst taboo ." Meg looked exhausted , as though all her youthful vitality had drained away. "Dancer couldn ' t help what he
did . He would never have deliberately hu rt Scott . As far as I'm conce rn ed , the Aquila killed Scott Hedford." Tu rn ing abruptly , the older woman splashed out of the mockup.
Tesa' s mind reeled from Meg's revelation . Suddenly her mind ' s eye
filled with the glint of sun on a bronze wingtip and the bluest sky she ' d
ever seen. And talons grasping a tanned skin with ragged holes across
its back.
Late that night, Tesa still couldn ' t close her eyes. After finding out the
bitter reality of the Aquila , she was afraid to sleep , afraid to dream .
She'd almost called Rob, but what she re ally wanted was an elder, a
shaman who could interpret d re ams.
After tossing for hours, she'd felt the gentle touch of Doctor Blanket ' s
telepathy , bidding her to come . Eager to talk to the Ave rn ian , Tesa had left her room , wearing nothing but her oldest StarB ri dge nightshi rt, its logo of a glitte ri ng rainbow b ri dge connecting two planets faded from too many cleanings. Using her quilt as a robe , she'd gone to the
Ave rn ian's dark
40
quart ers and, as she had many times in the past , draped the whisper -
light alien on her shoulders like a cape. Protecting the Avernian with a
Miza ri light damper , since visible light could actually burn the alien ' s delicate cilia, Tesa went to the obse rv ation dome.
Doctor Blanket liked the dome and its panorama of brilliant stars. Tesa
enjoyed it, too. StarBri dge Academy was built on an asteroid in a part of
space with no nearby sun. With nothing to hide their b ri lliance , the stars arched overhead in a stunning profusion of color. Blue, red,
yellow - even mauve and indigo. In Tesa's loneliest moments , when
she didn't think she could bear being away from Ea rt h any longer ,
she'd come here to send her spi ri t through her eyes to dance among
those colorful stars.
Tesa carried Doctor Blanket to the middle of the obse rv ation dome and
sat on the floor , tailor fashion . The Avernian was featureless , about the size of a baby blanket , almost flat, and covered with sho rt cilia on one side and small pseudopodlike appendages on the other . The being
slid off her shoulders, as the cilia undulated like a miniature grainfield
in a stiff breeze. Tesa sat in the darkness , with the alien ' s
phosphorescent form opposite her, and sta re d up at the heavens,
knowing the eyeless alien could " see" them through her eyes.
The first time Tesa had met Doctor Blanket, she'd been struck with the sense
of the cre atu re' s incredible age. When she'd felt the being's telepathic
touch , she'd discovered that this person had a depth of wisdom no
human could plumb. She realized this was someone who could
understand her spi ri tually as well as mentally. Tesa had come to love
the Avernian, who seemed more like a spi ri t being than an alien.
Doctor Blanket was, in reality, an intelligent fungus, incredibly old, who,
someday , would reproduce through spores. But no one who 'd ever
experienced the alien's gentle wisdom and humor could ever refer to the
Ave rn ian as an "it." Instead, eve ry one used the Mizari neuter pronoun
" seloz."
Finally, Tesa opened the parfleche she'd brought and removed a small ,
red stone and a bundle of sweet grass. Placing the stone between
them , she pulled a pinch of sweet grass from the bundle , crumbling it onto the stone. She used the parfleche as a screen, so the fire she
needed to ignite the sweet grass would not harm the Avemian with its b
ri ghtness . Slim curls of smoke wafted around them , climbing to the
ceiling.
41
SILENT DANCES 41 Speaking telepathically, Doctor Blanket told her how
much seloz enjoyed the scent of the burning sweet grass.
"I do, too," Tesa signed in Plains Indian Sign Language. Doctor Blanket
encouraged students to use their own languages when communicating with
seloz. "There are so many memories in that smoke, so many ghosts ..." She
stopped. "You know I'm leaving."
The Blanket knew.
"It's so hard to say good-bye ...
Even with Doctor Blanket she avoided the subjects that had kept her tossing
in bed--her confusion, her dreams. The dreams, especially, were a subject
she feared to touch. If she discussed them, she might remember them.
Besides, she argued with herself, how serious is a dream dreamt on this
asteroid, that had to be towed to where it is, and can't even support life, left to its own devices?
Doctor Blanket drew up on end and stood erect. The pearllike sheen of
seloz' cilia reminded Tesa of the Grus' woven cloak. <Human beings have
such a love/hate relationship with their dreams.> The Blanket's thoughts
tickled Tesa's mind with gentle amusement. She didn't experience seloz'
thoughts as words, but as ideas-she thought of them as feelings directed to
her.
<What you call "dreams" seem like fantastic mental inventions to me,> the Avernian "said," <a vivid literature of the mind full of smells, textures, colors.
These dreams are like the "stories" my people invent for entertainment. Yet
most humans either ignore their dreams or turn them into ominous warnings
from the dark sides of their natures. Few humans ever see the beauty of their
dreams or look on them as a visionary side of their minds.>
They'd talked of this on other nights, but then it had just been philosophy.
<I suppose it was my curiosity,> the Blanket continued, <my "dreams"--that caused me to be the first of my people to leave our homeworld. The others
couldn't understand my interest in seeing new worlds, or communicating
with different beings. No doubt they attributed my interest in adventure to my
youth.>
The idea of Doctor Blanket being young startled Tesa so much she couldn
' t respond.
<Among my people I'm just a youngster, even though by
42
your standards I'm incredibly old,> the being replied, amused. "Are you
saying you have no answers for me?" Tesa asked. <Your mind is in such
turmoil , I wouldn't know where to begin. Tell me first why you are trying to
change your own feelings about your hearing. That confuses me.>
Too weary to put into signs all her conflicting feelings, Tesa open
ed her mind. She thought of her choices and the bitterness she felt at having to
make them at all. When she finally began to wind down, she felt emptied of
anger and sorrow. But the terrible indecision was still there.
<Hearing is so valued among humans? > the Avernian asked.
"Maybe not hearing itself as much as the perception of being normal. I want to be Deaf, but that makes me feel selfish, as though I'm depriving my
parents of the one thing they've always wanted. Or I feel scared-afraid I
haven't got what it takes to function in the hea ri ng world as a hearing person."
<I don 't feel that in you,> the Avernian replied. < I sense only a reluctance to change something you are not unhappy with, and a desire for the people
you love to understand that. There' s nothing wrong with that, Tesa.>
"You make it sound so simple, Doctor Blanket." Tesa looked down, feeling heavyhearted.
<I thought the people of your culture prided themselves on their
individuality?>
Tesa nodded. " But it's hard to maintain culture in an homogenized world.
Even in the living museum we have the same media , the same
obligations and opportunities as the rest of the world. In our most remote lands, you can't watch a sunset without seeing contrails overhead.
Culture becomes something you save for vacation."
<You feel good about leaving for Trinity?>
She looked up at the flickering stars. "Yes, I want to go ... but what if I screw up?"
<Tesa, this is not like you, this conflict and doubt . You're hiding something from yourself.>
She faced the Avernian squarely. "Doctor Blanket, it's my dreams. Even
mentioning them makes me ne rv ous . My people believe dreams carry messages ... sometimes wa rn ings. Dreams shouldn 't be ignored. When
they are, harm can come to the dreamer ... or those close to her. We
43
must use this power by acting out the dream."
<And with power comes responsibility.>
Tesa nodded. "Before every big event, I've always dreamt about eagles ...
but I could never remember enough of the dreams to find out what I was
supposed to do. My grandfather told me that if the Wakinyan wanted
something of me, he would let me know. But, whoever dreams of the
Wakinyan ...
< ... becomes a contrary, a sacred clown.>
The Blanket's thought was like a blast of cold air over an exposed nerve.
Suddenly she saw clearly the old heyoka that came to summer camp. He
was decrepit with age but as spry as a boy, since he had been touched by
the Thunder Beings when he was young. Everywhere he went, he walked
on his hands. In summer he wore furs, and in winter, everyone said, he
sweated like a race horse and wore nothing but a breechclout. He was the
finest rider in the camp-he had to be, since he always rode backward. He
said no when he meant yes, bathed in dust to get clean, and jumped in water
to dry off. Wherever he went, he made the people laugh and as her
grandfather often told her, laughter was very sacred, very powerful. In the
years when the people had suffered from disease, starvation, and
persecution, the ability to laugh was sometimes all they had to keep them
going. The heyoka's medicine was always powerful.
But Tesa had never laughed at the old man. Instead, she always felt an
ominous dread whenever he came near. Anyone could become a heyoka
just by having the right dream. When Tesa was young and believed in
magic, she was terrified that someday the Thunder Beings would touch her
and turn her life upside down forever, as they had that sacred old man.
"No one wants to dream of the Thunder Beings," she signed.
<Tell me about the dream.>
Tesa looked at the Avernian for a long moment. "I can't remember. I see a wingtip, as though I'm the Wakinyan looking over my own shoulder. I see the
sky. I see lighting. And I feel afraid. Then, when I saw the Aquila. . .
<Sometimes human beings experience feelings that they have been
somewhere before...>
Tesa nodded. "Deja vu. I wish that's all it was. Everyone talks about the
heyoka's power, but no one wants to walk his path. Lately, I've been nothing but a contrary. People make me angry, and I act pleasant. I don't want to
have ear surgery,
44
but I say I'll have it done in a year. I see the Aquila and feel ... no, I know that they are intelligent, when they are among the most hated, savage creatures
on the whole planet. If that's not contrary, I don't know what is."
<I could show you your dreams,> the alien offered. <If that is what you wish.> Tesa had suspected that Doctor Blanket could release her subconscious
memories, but it wasn't something she had actually expected seloz to offer.
She shook her head. "You're the elder. I'm supposed to tell you the dream
and you're supposed to interpret it for me. If these eagle dreams are
significant, I should remember them myself."
<Your troubled dreams are a warning that you're facing your life's path. Of
course you're afraid to make the wrong move. >
Even before her scheduled tapping with the Ashu, Tesa had felt a vague
apprehension, a sense of impending something. If she'd been at home she
would've prayed for a vision.
She closed her eyes and thought of Trinity. There was the marshland,
becoming savannah, then forest, and before she knew what had happened,
she was seeing again the glint of sun on a bronze wingtip. Gliding beside
her was another Aquila, its red eyes staring into her own. The image was so
powerful, she could feel the rush of air against her arms/wings, against her
face/beak. She opened her eyes to find she was standing, arms
outstretched, poised as though performing the Eagle Dance. She looked at
the Avernian, lowering her arms.
<There, perhaps, you will even learn what to say to your pa re nts.>
On Trinity, she could live the way a human was meant to live, with sky
overhead, on land teeming with life.
<Trinity is full of nagi,> Doctor Blanket "said" cryptically.
In spite of the fact that her problems still loomed ahead unresolved, she felt
better. Impulsively, Tesa snatched up the light form of Doctor Blanket and
tried to hug seloz.
Undulating rapidly, the alien managed to convey that fierce hugging was not
good for a being with seloz' anatomy. Apologizing, Tesa made it easy for the
creature to again drape about
45
SILENT DANCES 45 her shoulders. Gently she touched her cheek to the
waving cilia . Good-bye, Doctor Blanket , she thought. And ... thank you.
It was almost time to board the shuttle that would take Tesa and Meg to
StarBridge Station, where they'd board the S.V. transport Norton. Jib was
double-checking her luggage.
He glanced at the pile. "What a mess of stuff!"
"That's all StarBridge issue," Tesa complained. "Stuff they think you can't live without. This is all I wanted to bring." She showed him her bow and
arrows, a lariat, a piece of flint, the Clovis point she'd made herself, and a
small hatchet.
"Yeah, but you're st
ill missing something," Jib told her, then tossed her a
small box.
Surprised, Tesa opened it. It was a Swiss Army knife.
Jib had one, a deluxe model. It had been his mother's, and was his pride and
joy. Whenever anyone needed an obscure tool, Jib always seemed to have
it on his knife.
Tesa had coveted that knife, that perfect all-tools-in-one. She looked at her
friend, dumbfounded, and turned the knife over in her hands. On the other
side, engraved in the red plastron, were the initials of Jib's mother.
Tesa looked shocked. "Jib, this is yours!"
He shrugged. "I couldn't let you go to this wild world without the right knife. I
changed some of the tools." He eagerly unfolded the new items. "Here's a
micro cell analyzer, and I'll bet you can't guess what this is!" He pulled out a
short tubular thing with a telltale on the end.
She shook her head, still stunned.
"It's a bioscanner," Jib signed. "If someone comes within twelve meters of you, this light will flash. That's in any di rection, land, sea, or air!"
"Jib," she signed, "I can't take your mother's knife .. She ran her fingers over its stiff leather case, decorated with curling, intricate Maori designs.
"You told me that you're supposed to give away the stuff that means the
most to you," Jib protested.
Impulsively, Tesa reached into her inside jacket pocket, removing a piece of
quill-worked leather. Smiling, she un wrapped her eagle feathers and
handed one to him. It was his turn to look surprised.
46
"Tesa, you can' t give me this. You earned it," he signed, half in delight, half in protest.
She gave him a quick kiss and a Maori nose-rub. "Soon you'll finish your
courses and do your pair project, and before you know it, you'll be on
another planet , working. Who knows, maybe you'll end up at Trinity with
me. But you' ll ea rn that feather. In the meantime it'll inspire you to great things. And when you look at it you'll think of me."
He held the white-tipped tail feather of a golden eagle respectfully. Its quill
was wrapped in leather, decorated with beadwork. Leather thongs with
large, colorful pony beads dangled from it. "Do you really think I need this to
think of you?"
Tesa touched his hand that held the feather. "We'll write?" He nodded, then
they began loading the baggage onto a nullgrav transport before they