The Children of the Sky

that with other races, only more metaphorical. I read your human romances especially. This kidnapping is just like in some of your stories, bringing people together, showing them how much they need each other. Don’t you see how good you and Jefri would be for each other?”

“Amdi!”

“What? What? I just want you to be happy.”

•  •  •

Events intervened before Amdi could make further unsettling comments.

They were descending into scrub forest, and the mud was now a serious problem. Streams cut across the path, and water was coursing through the meadow on their right. As best as they could tell from the maps, they were within a few hundred meters of the “steep descent.” The sound of falling water was loud even to Ravna’s ears. Jefri and Amdi hiked forward to take a look, while Ravna slayed with the wagons. Ritl was nowhere to be seen, but Screwfloss was patrolling some kind of perimeter.

Ravna got down and walked around the wagons, checking that the kherhogs were secured. She was surely the wimp of this expedition. She could barely keep standing, but right now she was too sore to sit down. She leaned against the middle wagon and struggled to stay alert. Since her delirium, she’d been irrationally afraid of the sleepiness that crept over her in the middle of the day. What if my mind comes undone once more?

Perhaps twenty minutes passed. Jefri and Amdi emerged from the scrub. Amdi was huffing and puffing to keep up.

“The maps lied,” said Jefri. He was speaking in a lowered voice, almost a whisper.

A few seconds later, Amdi arrived. “No,” he said, also speaking softly, “the maps were made from orbiter data. They can’t show what’s out of sight.”

Jefri shrugged. Like most of the Children, he tended to attribute motivation to artifacts. “The point is,” he continued in the same soft tones, “there are buildings on the valley floor. It looks like a caravanserai.”

“Yes,” said Amdi, “and there’s a winch station up here, at the edge of the dropoff.”

She noticed Screwfloss walking around the wagons, rousting the kherhogs as if to continue the drive. He was making no effort to be quiet about it. “Screwfloss seems to know what he wants to do.”

Jefri glanced over his shoulder. “I get his point. He figures we’ve already been spotted. We might as well go forward. Now, about our cover story…”

“Our cover story?” Ravna’s words came out in a kind of incredulous squeak. Two aliens and a jumble of Tines come strolling in, with the most amusing story. “Sorry. Right. We two-legs should keep out of sight to begin with, let Amdi do the talking.…” Both she and Jefri were looking at the eightsome.

Poor Amdi was beside himself, each member trying to stay out of sight behind the others. “I can’t! You can’t do this to me!”

“You’re the only one who can even speak the language, Amdi.”

“Wah!” wailed Amdi. “This isn’t fair!” He hesitated briefly, then launched into a string of mostly illogical objections. “Those could be the bad guys up ahead, Vendacious and Tycoon waiting to pick us off.”

Jefri shook his head. “I think Screwfloss would suspect if that were the case—and look at him.” The remnant had mounted the front wagon and was looking back at them expectantly.

“We could go back. We could hunt and trap! I know Screwfloss could. You could. I caught a fish the other day!”

Ravna went to her knees among Amdi. It was not entirely a controlled gesture. Amdi seemed to realize this; she felt him close in, steadying her. She slipped her arms around his nearest necks, and after a moment the dizziness passed. She could feel the cold soaking her knees, and Amdi’s fur against her face. What to say? “You’re the smartest pack in the world, Amdi.”

“That’s … probably true. Mr. Steel made me that way. He got a very, very smart coward.”

“Okay, that’s probably what Old Steel expected. I don’t think what’s left of him believes it.” She looked up, gave a nod in Screwfloss’ direction.

“Maybe, but—”

“Steel made something smarter than himself. I can tell you—personal experience of a Mid-Beyonder—that means the rest of what he expected is vapor. You have a power tool, and no one knows what you can do with it.” Her point applied to peer intellects as well, but Ravna was too tired for full disclosure.

Amdi didn’t say anything for a moment, but she felt a buzzing through his fur.

“We’ll come with you,” said Jefri, “openly. There’s no pointing in hiding us two-legs if we’ve already been seen.”

“We could advise you,” said Ravna.

That might be an empty offer, considering how much fast talking was needed. And yet, Amdi eased back from Ravna and angled his heads together, thinking intensely. “Advise, yes. With the right cover story … hmm. I’ll bet the local packs only have rumors about humans, stories of a supernatural race so intelligent that even their singletons are as smart as a Tinish pack. Maybe I could claim to represent the two-legged godlings.”

Ritl had crept into sight. It sat down near the edge of Amdi’s mindsounds. Amdi gobbled at it, and it responded with a long ramble.

Amdi laughed. “Ritl likes the idea—even if she doesn’t understand a word we’re saying.” And now he was full of supporting ideas: “With you as gods, then I’m just the middleman, the interpreter! We’ll have plenty of time to get our lies right, even if there are surprises. And then…”

•  •  •

They decided to take just the first wagon and three kherhogs. If this meeting worked out, they could hire someone at the winch station to bring down the other two wagons and the lame kherhog. Meantime, they wanted to put on a good show.

They moved the stash of lamps—their most exotic tradables—to the front wagon. The maps got moved, too, though they were emphatically not for trade. There were no clean human clothes, though Jef’s Oobii weaves were presentable.

And they finally had a use for Chitiratifor’s flashy outfits. They carefully removed one set from the oilskins. The cloth was so clean it fairly glowed, and the fine stitching was almost machine precise. There was a cape and matching jacket—even leggings. Chitiratifor had been big-bodied, but nowadays Amdi was big, too. There were enough outfits for six of him. Amdi immediately slipped into the clothes, adjusting the various belts and clasps.

Amdi strode around the wagons, admiring himself and making final tweaks to the outfit. He was on a roll, his anxiety either forgotten or forcibly suppressed. Ravna studied the beaded designs on the jackets. They probably represented something, though it might not be evident if you couldn’t get your eyeballs more than ten centimeters apart. “Any chance this outfit is a uniform of some kind, Amdi? Maybe now you’re a colonel in the Vendacious Bastards Army.”

“Oh, no,” said Amdi. “This is just a super-nice rich-pack thing.” He looked away from himself. “Now we have to decide where to put you two-legged gods.” He wanted Jefri and Ravna to keep apart so the locals would know they were sufficient even as singletons. “Later, when you are together—then they can tremble in fear of you!”

Jefri was nodding, but he looked seriously at Ravna. “Are you up to walking?”

“Yes.” She did not want to get back on a driver’s bench.

“Okay, then. I’ll walk forward with Amdi. Ravna, you stay near the rear of the wagon.”

“Something I can duck behind, eh?” She noticed that he didn’t smile fast enough at her joke. “Why should you take the greater risk?”

“Don’t go Age of Princesses on me, Ravna. It’s … it’s one of your most irritating habits.”

Okay. She was the weak one here. In fact, she might need the wagon to steady herself.

When they finally rolled forward, the overcast had lowered to a foggy gloom and it was deep twilight.

They’d set the best-charged lamps to cast long, narrow beams past the three kherhogs pulling the wagon. The exhausted animals were doing their part for the show, making it look as though the wagon held awesomely massive cargo.

The two of Amdi that had no costumes were driving the team. Screwfloss walked at the front, behaving like