him to the near-pine limb. The upper cat was limp but breathing.
Stephanie’s original plan had been to grab the lower one, then see if she could get him moving towards the car. Now she adapted.
She touched the lower ’cat. Bleary green eyes opened and looked at her with surprising lack of panic. Stephanie guessed that Lionheart must have reached this ’cat at least. When she touched him, she could feel him trembling from the strain of maintaining his awkward hold on the other treecat. He hissed when he felt her touch, and she guessed why.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to pull you out from under your buddy,” she said, hoping the tone of her voice would soothe him and trusting Lionheart to do the rest. “Did he get a bad dose of smoke? Let’s see if I can move him.”
The hissing stopped as soon as Stephanie reached up for the other ’cat. This one’s ears flickered when she touched him, but his eyes did not open. Moving as quickly as she could without risking her precarious balance on the tree limb, she struggled to free his claws from their death grip in the tree bark. She managed more easily than she had thought possible, given that treecats had six limbs with retractable claws that could rip through even tanned leather and artificially reinforced fabrics-as Stephanie had learned to the detriment of her wardrobe in her early days with Lionheart, before he learned just how fragile her clothing was.
This ’cat was only holding on with his true-hands. The other four sets were badly burned, the grip of their claws easily released.
Stephanie winced as she worked the claws free, trying hard not to hurt the ’cat but very aware that a fate far worse than burned paws was awaiting him if she didn’t get him into the car as quickly as possible.
Karl had set a closed link between her fire-suit and the air car. Through this he had provided a steady update as to immediate conditions, his voice almost as impersonal as a computerized weather report.
Now a note of emotion entered his voice. “Steph, the flames are within a meter of your feet. The limb you’re standing on is starting to smoulder. It’s going to go up soon.”
“I’ve almost gotten this ’cat loose,” Stephanie replied. “I think the other one can move on his own. You’re not going to believe it, but he was holding the other one up.”
“I saw,” Karl said. “Hurry.”
So Stephanie did, pretending to herself that the tears that leapt hot to her eyes were from some trace of smoke that had gotten in past her mask, not because she knew she was causing the treecat considerable pain. Once he snapped as if to bite her, but stopped in mid-motion. She was relieved.
At last, well aware that flames were now licking around her feet, Stephanie got the upper treecat loose. He dropped into her arms, not as heavy as his bulky fur might suggest, but still a considerable weight that threw off her balance. For a terrifying moment, she teetered, then recovered.
“Steph!”
“I’m coming!”
To her relief, as soon as his burden was lifted, the lower treecat had uncurled himself from the awkward position he had adopted to hold the other in place. He was running now, scampering with odd, leaping jumps meant to minimize his contact with the burning tree limb. Despite this awkward gait, he flowed rapidly toward the open door of the air car. There he hesitated momentarily. The opening was bobbing alarmingly as the air car was tossed by the updrafts.
Lionheart poked out his upper body, true-hand and hand-feet extended, beckoning urgently, reaching as if to grab the other. Perhaps seeing how Lionheart’s missing limb made this a very precarious position, the other treecat jumped into the air car. Stephanie and her burden were only a few steps behind. Feeling the limb under her feet creaking alarmingly, Stephanie half-leapt, half-lurched through the open door.
“Get your feet in!” Karl yelled. “I’m pulling us out.”
Stephanie hauled her legs in after her and felt the open panel sliding shut. Almost immediately, the jouncing of the air car settled somewhat.
“I’m taking us back to your freehold,” Karl said. She noticed he was wearing his breathing mask and goggles. “I called and your dad is home. I told him we have a patient for him. Did the other ’cat get burned?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, “or at least not badly.”
Stephanie twisted carefully in the now cramped confines of the backseat, the injured ’cat in her lap. Lionheart was sitting next to the other treecat, thrumming gently, obviously soothing the other.
She grinned at him. “Good job, Lionheart.”
He bleeked and gave her a “thumbs up” gesture with his one true-hand. Then he motioned for her to put the injured treecat on the seat between him and the other cat. Now they both sat pressed against the injured one, making soothing sounds something like a Terran cat’s purr.
At the time of her own injury, Lionheart’s clan had done something similar for her, somehow making her mind able to ignore the pain of a very badly broken arm, nearly broken leg, and several cracked ribs, so Stephanie did not interfere. Instead, she climbed into the front seat to give the ’cats more room.
Karl, she noted, now had both respirator and goggles hanging loose on straps around his neck. She took off her own, but left the fire-suit on.
“Were you able to get those out while keeping the car steady?” she asked. “I’m impressed.”
Karl chuckled. “Actually, Lionheart got them for me. I was coughing my head off and that wasn’t doing any good for my piloting. Next thing I know, he’s shoving the respirator at me, bleek-bleeking like mad. I got it on and he brought me the goggles.”
“Good for him!”
“We got to add that to our list for Dr. Hobbard,” Karl said. “The one to show that treecats are human smart, no matter what some people say.”
“Human smart,” Stephanie laughed. “You and I both know they’re smarter than some people we know.”
Lionheart bleeked, reaching forward to pat Stephanie with approval.
“Lionheart agrees with us,” Stephanie said. Then the background chatter from the SFS team cut into her thoughts. “Oh! Have you reported in to SFS?”
She still felt a thrill when she referred to the Sphinxian Forestry Service by its initials-that was one of the “in” things she and Karl had picked up during their training as probationary rangers. She also got a kick out of addressing Frank and Ainsley by their titles, rather than first names, when they were on duty. Doing so acknowledged that they were all part of a group that went from the newly created Probationary Rangers up to Assistant Rangers, Rangers, Senior Rangers, with Chief Ranger Shelton overlooking them all from the very top.
“I did,” Karl said. A sly grin stretched one corner of his mouth. “I told them that we’d been coming in from the north, but had encountered a tongue of fire that made going that way a bad idea. They told me not to circle around, that the fire was under control and that aircraft were coming in to dump water and fire retardant to halt the spread of the fire in that area, so we’d better clear out.”
“So you did…” Stephanie giggled.
“And was praised for my prudence,” Karl said, a lopsided grin turning up one corner of his mouth. “Of course, they’re going to find out eventually, but why add to their stress?
‹ Are you badly burned?› Climbs Quickly asked Left-Striped.
‹ My hand-feet and true-feet are tender,› the other admitted, ‹ and I have some blisters where sparks or flying embers burned through my fur. Nothing at all serious. I am more worried about my brother. He is very sluggish.›
‹ We are going to one who can help him,› Climbs Quickly said reassuringly. His mind voice filled with images of Healer, the father of Death Fang’s Bane. ‹ This one specializes in helping those who have been wounded-and not only those of his own type. I have seen him help his daughter or mate, but usually he gives his skills to other bloods. He is the one who saved my life after a death fang tore me into little more than bloodied scraps of fur.›
‹ I have heard that song, › Left-Striped said, a note of excitement coloring his mind voice. ‹ When I realized that your voice was coming from the two-leg’s flying thing, I wondered if the one who had offered hope when there was none might be you.›
Climbs Quickly felt pleased at this generous recognition, but he did not bask in it.
‹ Then you realize that the two-leg who came out onto the burning green-needle is the one our people call
