Fearful Symmetry: A Terran Empire novel, Page 4

  Chapter IV

  When Tarlac woke, though, it wasn't morning and he wasn't on hissleeping mat. It felt like the middle of the night, and he wasstanding as he had stood once before at the altar in the clanhome'sgathering hall, with his palms laid flat on the bare lower platform.

  He didn't know why or how he came to be here looking up at the imagesof those who formed the Circle of Lords, but it seemed right to himthat he stood so, at peace as his hands rested on the alien altar.

  Or was it alien? He didn't want it to be, and it certainly didn't seemalien. He knew, now, what he had only felt during the drive to theclanhome. He belonged here, to the Traiti, as surely as he belonged tothe Empire, and he had to bring the two together. It was a need hedidn't question, any more than he questioned the approval he sensedfrom somewhere. Stepping back from the altar, he bowed formally.

  Conscious of the chilly night air on his bare skin, he descended thesteps, intending to return to the sleeproom he shared with Hovan andseveral other fighters.

  There was someone at the far end of the gathering hall, approachinghim. He recognized the green-robed figure as the Speaker, Daria, andwondered briefly if being here in his condition was considereddisrespectful, or worse.

  Apparently it wasn't; she smiled at him. "The Lords saw fit to summonyou quickly. Was the communion pleasant?"

  "I don't know," Tarlac said. "I don't remember--"

  He broke off in shock. She had spoken Language, and he'd answered init. Not in the halting fragments he'd learned from Hovan, but as easilyand fluently as if he'd been speaking Imperial English! "What-- How--"

  "The Lords taught you, of course." She showed no surprise at that."But here, I brought a cloak when I sensed them calling you; I thoughtyou would need it. And come, I will get you some hot chovas. It willwarm you."

  "Thanks." Tarlac took the cloak gratefully and wrapped it around hisbody, feeling a sense of relief. He'd adapted well enough to thein-clan nudity that under most circumstances being nude himself might notbother him too badly--but this woman was the clan's religious leader,and he was still uncertain enough not to want to commit any Terranimproprieties around her. "The chovas sounds good, too."

  By the time they were in the dining room and Daria had brought mugs ofaromatic chovas from the always-ready pot in the kitchen, he'd stoppedshivering and managed to accept the fact of his new command ofLanguage. He'd also discovered it did him no good to think about howhe'd gotten it. When he tried, his thoughts simply shied away from thesubject.

  "Do the Lords do that sort of thing often?" he asked as they tookseats. They weren't the only ones in the dining room, even at thishour, but nobody paid any noticeable attention to them.

  "No, they very seldom intervene," she said calmly. "Why? Do your godsspeak often?"

  "It hasn't been proven that any ever have. I've never really believedin any of Terra's gods." The hot mug between his hands gave offcinnamon-flavored steam. "I'm not very good at taking things onfaith."

  "On faith? Your gods provide no evidence?" Daria's voice held faintdisapproval. "They must be inferior gods, then."

  Tarlac had to agree. "Yeah. The Circle of Lords doesn't leave muchroom for doubt, does it? No wonder Hovan thought I was naive."

  He took a drink of his chovas, enjoying the warmth amid his troubledthoughts. He didn't see any alternative to accepting the Lords'reality, like it or not. And he didn't particularly like it. Gods whotook an active part in mundane affairs introduced an uncertainty factorthat he found unsettling at best. "Why haven't they helped you win thewar, though?" he asked.

  Daria smiled sadly. Apparently Language hadn't been the only thing theLords taught him; he was reading her expression easily. "Who can saywhat motivates a god? We can only hope that their intervention now,through you, will save some of us."

  "Yeah." Tarlac sipped again at his chovas. "Look, will you explainsomething for me?"

  "If I can. What is it?"

  "What in--" Tarlac hesitated, modified what he was going to say."What does a Ranger taking the Ordeal have to do with ending the war?"

  Daria was silent for a moment, then she smiled again, easily, at theRanger's almost aggrieved tone. "Ruhar, you must have noticed that allofficers and high-status males are n'Cor'naya. There is a reason forthat; we have so many that there must be a way to select the mostcapable, courageous, and honorable. The Ordeal has done that for manymillennia, though it changed when Lord Sepol was called to the Circle.

  "If the war is to be ended with honor, it must be done by someone whohas high status on both sides. As a Ranger, you already have that inthe Empire; once you pass the Ordeal, you will also be able tonegotiate a peace agreement as a Cor'naya."

  Tarlac frowned. "Any agreement that will work can't involve you . . .surrendering"--he had to use the English word--"since that's somethingyou can't do. With the way your people fight, and with us winning asdecisively as we are, that is not going to be easy. Will the Lordshelp me there?"

  "I cannot tell you," Daria said, frowning in her turn, perhaps at theunfamiliar word. "They have remained unresponsive; I can only praythat they will. But you must not count on it, for they give no morehelp than they consider essential. If they think there is anypossibility you can do it without them, success or failure is up toyou. We must learn, they say, by our mistakes."

  "It wasn't your mistake that started this war," Tarlac said. "It wasthe Empire's, but you're the ones paying for it." He had a suddenthought, frowned again. "Fleet-Captain Arjen said the Supreme andFirst Speaker invited me here. That 'invitation' really came from theLords, didn't it?"

  Daria nodded. "Yes; all the Speakers know. But do not let that makeyou over-confident of their help. It is quite likely that having youbrought here and teaching you Language is all they intend to do."

  She sensed a question he hesitated to ask, and smiled. "No, Steve,your adoption was not dictated by the Lords. The Speakers wereinformed of your need to take the Ordeal, and we in turn informed ourrespective Clan Mothers--but the choice of offering adoption or not wastheirs. Ka'ruchaya Yarra, in her wisdom, chose to offer it, and I amglad."

  "So'm I. And it may mean I do have a chance of finishing." Tarlacgrinned, unable to suppress a short-lived surge of hope. He'd beenprepared to die to bring peace; just the thought of living to enjoy it,as Hovan was confident he would, was enough to make him reach out andtake Daria's hand even as it faded. "Thanks, ruhar. I was--"

  "I know," Daria interrupted, putting her other hand over his. "Thatyou continue when you feel certain of death does you honor. You are sointense, Steve. Relax, let the chovas soothe you."

  "I can now, I guess. But I'm still worried. From what Hovan's toldme, the Ordeal's no picnic, even if I do get help from the Lords."

  "That is true, es'ruhar, but be easy. Worrying will only make itworse."

  Tarlac was touched by her concern, and even more by what she calledhim--though her intonation, combined with her use of the malesignifier, made that term . . . intimate. It was almost embarrassing,and he didn't know how to respond. "Speaker . . ."

  "I am Daria, es'ruhar."

  "Daria, then." Tarlac was acutely aware of her tone and her touch.The gray skin, despite its dense toughness, was soft and supple aroundhis hands. This was a little too much closeness. "Uh, I think theTraiti and Empire have a lot to offer each other. For instance, you--"

  "Steve, es'ruhar . . ." Daria interrupted again, smiling gently asshe ran the backs of her claws up and down his forearm.

  Tarlac shivered, not from cold, and a gulp of hot chovas didn't help.He wanted to run from what he was suddenly sure she meant. Hecouldn't, not yet, not so soon--maybe never! He was afraid as he'dnever been in combat, and shamed by the fear, but he was unable to denyit.

  Daria paused, sensing the man's reaction. She had expected someunease; the Lords said that he had never shared bodies, since he hadnever gone through the ceremony humans needed to make it honorable, ass
ome of the prisoners had. But simple inexperience didn't explain hisnear-panic response. There was a First Sharing for everyone, anoccasion for joy in the clan almost as important as a birth.

  Then she remembered stories she had heard about the prisoners, storiesshe recalled only with pity. "Married" Terrans shared bodies, yes, butonly in private, as if doing so brought shame even then. And theynever spoke of it, never otherwise slept unclothed, and certainly neverallowed their bodies that freedom while awake. That had to mean, sherealized with sudden horror, that Steve was disturbed by just thethought of such sharing. He must be fighting not to think of it atthis moment.

  Touching hadn't upset him before, but now his arm muscles were tautunder her fingers, and she could tell it cost him effort to remainmotionless and silent. She didn't remove her hand, letting it lie asbefore over his forearm, but when she spoke her intonation wasconcerned instead of intimate. "Ruhar, let me help you."

  ". . . What? Help? I . . . don't need any help. It's just . . . I'mnot judging you, but you can't ask me to . . ."

  Tarlac's voice trailed off. He couldn't look up and meet her eyes,could only stare at the gray, gracefully-clawed hand on his arm. Atthe altar he had felt he belonged to these people, and it had made himhappy. Now he was a confused alien again, belonging nowhere and to noone.

  The sudden violent changes of emotion he'd begun experiencing latelyweren't usual for him at all, and he didn't know how to handle them.It was like some of the Academy entrance examinations, when he'd beentested for his reactions to mood-altering drugs--and, at the same time,for his ability to function under wildly varying conditions. He'd beentrying to adapt to too many things at once, he thought desperately.Maybe he did need to slow the pace, maybe he should . . . but he didn'thave time . . .

  He couldn't . . . couldn't do what he thought she wanted. Hehesitated, tried to explain. "Speaker, I can't make love to you," hesaid desperately, forcing himself to speak quietly though his wordscame out in short, harsh phrases. "It just isn't done. Even if youweren't a priestess. We aren't married. I gave up wanting afamily . . . I just can't!"

  When he became silent, Daria said softly, "You joined Ch'kara."

  "I had to. To take the Ordeal." Tarlac was still staring at her hand,and sat frozen where he was as she moved to a place beside him.

  Ah, the Ordeal, she thought compassionately. Perhaps if he knew thiswas part of the Ordeal, showing he was able to share in the creation ofa new life? Then she decided against telling him. It would be betterif he did not know just yet, if he did this freely rather than from asense of obligation. "Ruhar, please. Let me help. I can ease the illthat has been done you, perhaps cure it. You need not suffer as youdo."

  "Ill?" After a few moments, the Ranger was able to look up intosympathetic amber eyes. "I'm not suffering, I like what I do. Youjust, well, surprised me. I didn't mean to offend you. If I did, I'msorry."

  She'd shocked the hell out of him, would be more accurate, but he hadregained some control and did regret any distress he might have causedher. More, he was angry at himself for losing control in the firstplace. It was about time he started thinking with something more thanhis cultural prejudices. Dammit, he was supposed to be able to adaptto just about any circumstances. So why shouldn't he accept this?

  Unless she was right, and something in Terran culture had warped him.

  Or--maybe not warped him, but been mistaken about him. He'd lost hisreserve far too easily in the short time he'd spent aboard theHermnaen, and here in-clan, for real detachment to have been anintegral part of him. He'd enjoyed--until now--the Traiti closenessthat was unacceptable in Terran society at present.

  That had to be it. The tests, reliable as they were, weren'tinfallible; they'd missed Shining Arrow's need for closeness. Givenhis own isolated childhood, it wasn't surprising they'd missed the sameneed in him--a need he hadn't even known, in Terran society, that hehad.

  And that was his key. This wasn't Terra. This was the TraitiHomeworld, and physical expression of affection was the norm here. Heclosed his eyes and took several deep breaths, deliberately relaxing.

  Daria felt his body's tension ease, and put an arm around hisshoulders. "That is better, ruhar. I have heard of marriage, though itis not a Traiti custom. Adopted or not, you are part of the clan, andyou are adult. Any ruhar can share bodies with you, in full honor."

  Any--? the Ranger thought blankly, then he realized it made sense.With their sex ratio and limited fertility, the Traiti couldn't pair upas Terrans did. Hovan and the five he shared young with should havemade that obvious. But she was still a priestess . . .

  Daria answered that unspoken thought, startling him. "The Lords do notforbid their Speakers sharing of bodies or young--if they did, nonewould serve them. There are no barriers, es'ruhar, except those inyour mind."

  She was silent then, letting the man absorb her words and her unspokencaring, as some people drifted out of the room and others drifted in,to sit near them. The emotional storm Steve was generating, and itstexture, let the clan know his First Sharing was near, and that heneeded support to make it what it should be.

  Daria remembered her own First Sharing, a good eighty years ago, andrecalled that she had been a little apprehensive herself, even thoughshe had grown up seeing the adults sharing bodies. She had onlyrelaxed when her best-loved es'ruhar, he who had given her life, cameto give her this gift as well. And those who were with them includedher other closest n'ruhar.

  Now the ones Steve knew best were here to show their approval and joy.Daria regretted that he had no one really close to him for this, butwith Hovan and the others around them, she was sure he would take somepleasure in it, and he would be unaware of how much he was missing.

  Tarlac felt the presence of his n'ruhar, male and female alike, in aperception that was a glow of warmth. They were his clan, his family.And yes, he was es'ruhar to Daria. He looked up at her, reached to runhis fingers softly along the side of her face. "Ka'ruhar," he said,almost whispering, "I will . . . I will be proud to share bodies withyou this night."

  When Tarlac woke the next morning he felt good, almost euphoric, easedof a tension he'd lived with for so long he'd forgotten he had it.Daria was also awake, he realized, and those who had been with them thenight before were now gone. He put his arms around her.

  "Ka'ruhar . . . it was unbelievable." He remembered the night withdelight, and appreciation for something he'd never expected toexperience--the unity with another person, someone who treated him as aperson instead of a symbol.

  "Such sharing is always good," she said serenely, running gentle clawsdown his back. "And we share more, my Steve. I bear our ka'esten."

  "Our daughter." Tarlac, beyond surprise, couldn't question herknowledge of pregnancy or of the baby's sex. He took a moment to sortout his reactions. He knew Daria was pleased--he couldn't deny that ina way he was pleased himself!--but this made it certain. One way oranother, this was his last mission as a Ranger. He'd told Hovan whatmight happen if he returned to the Empire with a clan and family, buthe hadn't really expected to have to leave the only group of friendshe'd known. That would be a wrench.

  Still . . . he remembered the feeling of belonging he'd had at thealtar, and Daria's undeniable concern for him. Maybe it wouldn't betoo bad a deal, at that, if he somehow survived. He might be gainingmore than he lost . . . a badge for a daughter. Jim and Linda forHovan and Daria. Yeah, that seemed fair enough.

  Tarlac smiled, already a bit nostalgic. Guess you'll have to findyourself another Ranger, Jean, he thought. Looks like if I ever ridethe Lindner again, it'll be as a passenger. Then his attention turnedfully to Daria, and the idea of being a father.

  It turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant idea. He felt briefconcern about how their daughter would be accepted, but decided thatshouldn't be a problem, since he'd been accepted. Something else wasmore important. "Daria, ka'ruhar--what happens to her, and to you, if Ifail? Not if I die trying
this; I know Ch'kara will take care of youboth. But if I can't end the war, and the Empire invades Homeworld?"

  Her serenity was unimpaired. "I believe you will not fail, that youwill watch her grow. To ease your mind, though, as long as I amcarrying and nursing her, it would be dishonorable for me to fight--andthe need to care for her will keep me alive, even as a captive, untilshe no longer needs me."

  "That helps, some." It wasn't perfect; Tarlac didn't want anyone tohave to die, and he hoped the invasion never happened . . . but whatshe said did help. Then another thought occurred to him. "What'll wename her?"

  "We have time to give that much thought," Daria said with amusement."But not now. I have duties, and we both must eat."

  "I suppose so." He hated to do it, but he released her and they bothrose.

  Going to the door, Daria retrieved a bundle and handed it to him.Clothes, in Imperial green and silver--with his badge. He took them,pleasantly surprised; he'd expected to have to go back to his quartersto dress. Somebody was being thoughtful.

  Nobody seemed to pay any particular attention to them when they went into breakfast, though Tarlac was reasonably sure that what had happenedwas common knowledge. He became positive when, shortly after theyfound seats, Hovan and Yarra joined them.

  Yarra smiled at them "Well, Steve, have you lost all your doubts oftruly belonging?"

  "There's no need for the English now, Ka'ruchaya--the Lords are goodteachers." Tarlac was still baffled by their gift of Language, buthe'd come to accept it. "I've lost all my doubts."

  "That is good," Yarra said. "I like my n'ruesten at ease."

  Then Daria touched Steve's hand. "You tell them, es'ruhar. I willtell the rest at morning service."

  "Tell us what?" Hovan asked, but his face told Steve that he'd guessedthe news.

  "Daria and I share a daughter."

  Hovan looked at the two of them, then at Yarra. "It seems our newestone serves Ch'kara well. And himself--I have never heard of anyonepassing the first part of the Ordeal so quickly."

  "The Ordeal!" Tarlac exclaimed--but shock almost instantly turned tounderstanding. "Daria, you should have told me!"

  "And make your First Sharing a thing of duty instead of joy? No,es'ruhar. That would have been wrong for you, and for our ka'esten.You deserve better of the clan."

  Yarra smiled at them, and spoke to Steve. "Ruesten, the Lords musttruly favor you, to teach you Language, then grant a girl child to theclan on your first sharing of bodies. That is a thing of joy, for allof us."

  "Yes, but--"

  "No buts, ruhar," Hovan said. "Are you concerned that she is halfhuman? That does not matter." He turned to Yarra and Daria."Ka'ruchaya, may I show him?"

  Yarra nodded. "If Daria permits."

  "Go ahead," Daria said. "I am content to make the formal announcementat service."

  Hovan stood and raised his arms, claws fully extended in a stance thatdemanded the room's full attention. Silence fell, and he waited untilevery face in the dining room was turned toward him.

  "In seven tenth-years, n'ruhar," he began, "we will have--"

  Some breakfasters were quick to make the connection between thetimespan and the previous night's First Sharing, no doubt aided by thelittle group's satisfied expressions.

  "Female or male?" someone called.

  "Female!" Hovan called back, too proud for Steve to be dismayed by theinterruption.

  Within seconds Tarlac and Daria were surrounded by well-wishers, beingcongratulated with obvious sincerity. There was no doubt in theRanger's mind of that, as he found himself grinning like an idiot,accepting the compliments and feeling as pleased with himself as anyTraiti male.

  A clan-sized family had built-in safeguards against his swelling head,though. A youngling Steve couldn't remember meeting tugged at hisshirt, and when he looked around, said, "Hey, ruchaya Steve, you don'ttalk funny any more."

  Tarlac laughed. "Thanks! Think you could do any better, in English?"

  The youngling grinned engagingly at him. "Sure I could, if you teachme."

  "We'll see. If I have time, it's a deal."

  Over the next several days, however, Tarlac was too busy to teach; hewas studying instead, fourteen hours a day, which left him time forlittle except food and sleep. He didn't mind the hard work; it wasinteresting, and it would very probably keep him alive--if anythingwould.

  Hovan did leave him time to study the first-contact tape and read thedaily news summaries the Supreme had delivered as promised. Neitherbrought any surprises, though he paid close attention to the tape,trying to find some way the war could have been avoided. Doing sowouldn't solve this situation, but it might help prevent anotherfirst-contact disaster.

  He didn't find anything. The tape simply confirmed Hovan's account ofthe first human/Traiti meeting, adding little to Tarlac's knowledgeexcept a sight of the guardship crew's intense horror when they sawwomen aboard an armed scout, being taken into danger only males shouldface. The human scouts had followed first-contact procedure, Tarlacfound; the problem was the mixed crew, and there was no point inchanging that. Anything the Empire did there--except perhaps forcrewing all scouts with Irschchans, whose sex was difficult fornon-felinoids to distinguish--could be just as bad, depending on theculture being contacted. And that had other practical difficulties.No, the Ranger decided, it was what he'd originally called it: a mutualmisunderstanding. What he'd called the Empire's fault, to Daria, hadbeen unavoidable. Neither side could be blamed.

  The news summaries reported that the Empire was winning as steadily asever. It was the casualty reports that bothered Tarlac. The Imperiallosses were lighter than predicted, and he knew few individuals in theEmpire well enough to feel more than mild regret at their deaths; butthe increasingly heavy Traiti casualties upset him with their sheernumbers.

  More, some of them hit him very personally. The loss of people fromCh'kara, even people he'd never met, left a void. They were a loss tothe entire clan, and it wasn't balanced by the birth of a son to one ofthe n'ka'ruhar on Norvis--though Tarlac did share the clan's joy atthat event.

  The losses couldn't intensify his need to end the war, though. Nothingcould; it was already the central fact of his existence. So, asidefrom paying attention to the news summaries and the necessities oflife, Tarlac spent all his time on the concentrated study that mightkeep him alive through the Ordeal.

  All the same, it was a welcome break when, just before dinner theevening of his tenth day on Homeworld, Hovan informed him that schoolwas over and invited him to join one of the fighters' discussion groupsafter eating.

  Tarlac pushed himself away from the study unit and stood, stretchingluxuriously. "That sounds good, and I could sure use the change. Haveyou decided when I'm supposed to go out?"

  "Tomorrow, or if you prefer, the next day."

  "Okay. Tomorrow, then. I still don't care to waste time."

  "I thought you would not. I arranged for a null-grav car formidmorning; I will take you to the test area myself." He smiled alittle. "Before we leave, you will have to make a decision. Now thatyou know all the dangers, you must choose whether to remain in the testarea for the full two ten-days, or attempt to walk out. The Ordealrequires that you survive, nothing more."

  "Mmm." Tarlac frowned. "Staying put's safer, but if I'm lucky,walking out should only take five or ten days. That's ten, maybefifteen days saved--I'll take the chance. And I'll bet you expectedthat, too."

  Hovan's smile widened. "I did. It means you will carry a locatorbeacon as well as your knife, timed to go off in twenty days. If youare not back here by then, we will come for you."

  "Yeah, okay. You know me pretty well, don't you? Let's eat."

  He slept that night as if he had nothing hanging over him, and when hewent to first-meal, barefoot and wearing only shorts and a knife, hewas greeted with enthusiasm and urged, almost forced, to eat heartily.It was the last meal in quite a few days, he was concernedly told, thathe could be
sure of.

  "Hey, don't worry about that!" he reassured them, chuckling. "Beingsmall does give me some advantages--I can go for two or three dayswithout eating and without getting really hungry."

  That drew some exclamations of disbelief. A Traiti who fasted for evena single day would feel severe hunger pains, and three days would leaveone seriously weakened.

  "An advantage that may balance his lack of claws and his thin skin,"Hovan pointed out. "It seems a fair exchange; otherwise he faces thesame hazards we do."

  "Yeah," Tarlac said. "It's a little hard to convince an overgrownbobcat to pull its punches."

  "N'derybach are not known for their peaceful dispositions," Hovanagreed. "But if you are done eating, we should leave. You will want asmuch daylight as you can get."

  "Okay, let's go. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

  Moments later, Tarlac and Hovan were climbing into one of the clan'snull-grav cars. Hovan was confident that Steve was, as he'd said,truly as ready as possible; there was no point in a last-minutebriefing, so they made the trip to the test area in companionablesilence.

  Twenty n'liu from the clanhome, slightly over fifty kilometers, Hovanset the null-grav car down in a clearing, reached into a storagecompartment in the control panel, and handed Steve the locator beacon.

  Tarlac clipped it to the waistband of his shorts. "Twenty days,right?" he said as he climbed out of the car.

  "Five or ten," Hovan said with a smile. "May Lord Sepol guard andguide you, ruhar." Then he lifted the car and pointed it toward theclanhome. Steve was on his own now, totally out of contact, and Hovanfound himself suddenly apprehensive. N'derybach weren't the onlydangers in Homeworld's wilderness.