The Children of the Sky

while.”

Amdi came down the stairs, butted one head softly against Johanna and two more against Ravna. “It’s good to see you!” said the pack, using its little-boy voice. Amdiranifani was an eightsome, about as numerous as a clear- thinking pack could be. When Ravna had first met him, he’d been entirely puppies. They were so small you could carry half of him in your arms, while the other half tumbled around your ankles, asking questions and showing off. He and little Jefri had been so close that some Tines thought of them as a single pack, and gave them the name Amdijefri. No packs called them that anymore. Now, each of Amdi’s members had grown to be large and a little overweight. At first glance, he was physically intimidating. At second glance and after casual conversation, you’d realize Amdi was too shy to menace anybody. And at third glance—if you really got to know him or if he wanted to show off—you’d realize that Amdi was about the smartest creature you could ever meet Down Here.

Ravna patted the nearest head, and smiled at the pack and then at Jefri. “Yes, it is good to see you.”

“And about time,” Johanna inserted, not buying her brother’s casual manner.

Ravna waved a kind of “it’s okay” at Johanna. Civility had been in very short supply from Jefri; she had no desire for a return to his rebellious years.

Johanna didn’t seem to notice. “So, Brother?”

There was a shadow of a glower from the boy. “So. You know. I’ve been the whole spring downcoast with Meri Lyssndot’s team, surveying the special metals that Oobii thought—”

“I know that, Jef. And I know you’ve been screwing Meri and every other girl you can lay your hands on. But you’ve been back how many days and not a word from you?”

Now the glower was on full. “Lay off, Jo. You don’t own me.”

“I’m your sister! I…” Indignation choked off her words.

Ravna noticed that Amdi had snuck back and seemed to be trying to hide behind Jefri. She cast about for something that might deflect the oncoming debacle. Things had been going so well with Jefri this past year. Ah: “It’s okay, Jefri. I’ve seen the survey report. Good work.” Or maybe that was laying it on too thick. “I’m more interested in what was going on with those three…” She waved down the stairs. Should I call them your friends? I hope they’re not. “What was this ‘truth’ that Gannon was talking about?”

“Um, nothing.”

“Yup, nothing,” said Amdi, nodding all his heads.

“Well then.” Ravna came up the stairs. Jefri was nineteen, an adult by the human standards of Sjandra Kei and Straumli Realm. It didn’t matter any more that Jef had been the nicest child, brave and well-meaning. It shouldn’t matter that in later years he was often the most rebellious of the pimply mob. Thank goodness that Johanna had pointed Nevil at him. Where even Johanna had not managed to talk sense into him, the level-headed, diplomatic Nevil had succeeded. With any luck, his current problem was just a temporary backsliding. “We just want to see how people are doing,” said Ravna. She waved at the entrance just beyond Jefri and Amdi. “The three of us can talk another time if you want.”

Jefri dithered a second, and then her mild words seemed to bring him around. “That’s okay. Let’s talk. The whole thing is, um, a bit strange.” He turned and held the pub’s door open for Ravna and his sister.

•  •  •

Inside the pub it was warm, a reminder that even the summer-day shadows could be cold. There was the smell of smoke and spice and the usual pack body odor. Jefri eased past Jo and Ravna, leading them along a low, narrow corridor, where the smoke was even thicker. Health and fire-safety regulations were still in this world’s future.

Ravna just followed along silently, bemused by the crazy carvings that lined the walls—Tines’ ideas about what life in the Beyond had been like—and wondering at the changes that even ten years had made in her Children. Funny. She had always thought of Johanna as being tall, even when she was only thirteen. But that was Johanna’s personality. Even now, Johanna was only one meter seventy, scarcely taller than Ravna. And Jefri? He had always seemed so small to her. He had been short, when Pham had landed and saved him from Lord Steel. She remembered the little orphan raising his arms to her. But now she noticed how much he had to scrunch down to clear the ceiling. The guy was nearly two meters tall when he stood straight.

The music was loudest straight ahead. There was a flickering colored light that must be one of those crazy mood candelabras. Jefri stepped through the opening, Ravna and Johanna and Amdi right behind.

The Mantis tavern had a vaulted ceiling, and space for padded alcoves all around the upper walls. Today, the clientele was mainly human. There were two or three packs up in the lofts, but the bartender pack was the only one on the main floor. All the music was—no surprise—coming from the bartender.

“Back so soon?” someone shouted at Amdi and Jefri. Then they caught sight of Ravna and Johanna, and there was nervous laughter. “Wow, we can’t talk treason for more than five minutes and the secret police show up.”

“I ran into them on the steps,” said Jefri.

“Just shows you should use the exit stairs, like decent folk do.” That was Heida Oysler. She was still laughing about her secret police crack. Some of the others seemed a bit pained by it, but then Heida’s sense of humor was her greatest enemy. At least here there were none of the closed expressions Ravna had seen on the stairs. Heida pulled over extra chairs and waved them to sit down.

As they did so, the bartender’s roving member was already bringing out more beer. Ravna glanced around the table, taking in just who was here. Ten kids—no. Ten adults. Jefri and Heida might be the youngest here. None of these were parents yet, though there was one recently married couple.

Johanna snagged a beer. She raised it to Heida in a mock salute. “So now that the secret police are here, consider yourselves under interrogation. What are you miscreants up to?”

“Oh, the usual mayhem.” But then Heida was out of clever responses. That could be a blessing. When Heida babbled, things could get marvelously embarrassing. There had been that mock adultery claim about Tami and Wilm—which then turned out to be essentially true. “We were just, you know, speculating about the Disaster Study Group.”

“Ah.” Johanna settled her beer back on the table.

“What’s that?” said Ravna. “It sounds terribly official. And I thought I was into all the terribly official things around here.”

“Well, that’s only because—” began Heida, but one of the other girls, Elspa Latterby, stepped on her wit:

“It’s just three big words covering up a lot of wishful thinking.” No one else said anything. After a moment, Elspa shrugged and continued, “You see, Ma’am—”

“Please, Elspa, call me Ravna.” Oops, I always say that, and some, like Elspa, always forget.

“Sure, Ravna. Y’see, the thing is, well, you and the Tines have done your best to stand in for our parents. I know how much Woodcarver and Flenser-Tyrathect have spent on our academy. And now we’re doing our best to make something of ourselves—in this world. Some of us, the very youngest, are quite happy.” A smile flickered on her face. “My little sister has Beasly and human playmates. She has me—and she doesn’t remember our folks very well. To Geri, this seems like a wonderful place.”

Ravna nodded. “But for the older ones, life here is just the epilogue to a holocaust, right?” Certainly, that was often how Ravna saw it.

Elspa nodded, “It’s wrongheaded maybe. But there it is. Not all us feel this way, but we remember our parents, and civilization. It’s not surprising that some of us feel just a little bitter to have lost so much. Disasters have that effect even when no one living is responsible.”

Jefri hadn’t bothered with a human chair. He had set himself on one of the high perches normally used by the Tines. From there he looked down gloomily. “So it’s not surprising such people might call themselves the Disaster Study Group,” he said.

Ravna gave them all a smile. “I guess we’ve all been members of that club at one time or another—all of us who seriously look at the recent history.”

Now that the bartender’s member had retreated, Amdi had surfaced all around the two tables, a head here, a head there, some of him perched on the high stools. He liked to watch from all directions—and there were enough of him to do a good job of it. The two on the stools cocked their heads, but his voice seemed to come from