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Serpent's Gift Page 3
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"Would I know it?"
< "I doubt it. It's They Don't Make Pennies Anymore, by Eunice ( Goldberg.
One of those really intense dramas that are a bitch to do, but if you do your job right, there won't be a dry eye in the house." She glanced up at him.
"What about you?"
"I have been spending most of my time out at the dig with Professor Greyshine." His eyes flashed excitedly. "We might be on to something very big."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"We cannot say for certain as yet, because we still need more proof, but the Professor thinks that the artifacts we have in our possession may have been left by the Mizari Lost Colony. He believes they visited this asteroid after their departure from Shassiszss, over four thousand years ago."
Hing was impressed. 'That's a long time..." she said. Four thousand years ago on Earth, the pyramids and Stonehenge were relatively new, slavery and war had characterized the most advanced human civilizations, and the great majority -of people had spent their brief lives trying to propitiate the
'gods so they wouldn't starve or die of pestilence. By contrast, the large, reptilian Mizari had already possessed interstellar travel!
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"This Lost Colony," she ventured, "don't they have any idea of where they went?"
Serge shook his head. "No .. . unless our site turns out to be that very clue.
The preliminary dating we have done indicates that the time-span for these artifacts is right, but tests must be done in the lab before we will be certain. I wish we could uncover more artifacts. We've been at it for months, now, without locating a single new one. But the Professor says that often happens on digs--you make several discoveries, then weeks or months go by where you find nothing. It's odd, really .. . some things about this site simply don't add up ... but, of course, this is my first dig, so I have nothing with which to compare it."
"I wish I could see a real dig," Hing said impulsively.
"Vraiment?" Even though he kept his voice casual, his slip into his native tongue revealed his excitement, his eagerness. Hing wasn't sure whether he'd noticed his lapse--people who habitual y conversed in several different languages on any given day often switched back and forth in midsentence.
But with Serge, she'd learned, such slips usually betrayed intense emotion and/or excitement. "I could arrange a visit."
Uh-oh, back off, Hing, she scolded herself. Don't go giving him any wrong ideas. "I'd love to go," she said cautiously, "but I'll have to see how rehearsals work out."
"I understand," Serge said, not meeting her eyes.
The silence between them hung heavy as they reached the end of the docking tube, then mounted the escalator to the station's multispecies lounge with its spectacular viewports. As they entered, Hing scanned the waiting crowd of new students for a flash of red hair.
The lounge was not really crowded, but it seemed filled because of the variety of beings waiting there. It looked like an Intergalactic Geographic documentary.
Hing caught a whiff of frying bacon, then the beach at low tide, followed by fresh blueberries as two Vardi engaged in conversation in their olfactory-based language. The two-metertal aliens, resembling giant stalks of purple-green broccoli, stood (since they weren't designed to sit) on the far side of the room She was relieved to see that they were both wearing special voder so they could understand spoken language.
Next to the Vardi coiled a Mizari, his five-meter length filling his round, padded compartment. This one was golden-colored with scarlet and black diamonds patterning his back and the masculine dorsal ridge. The tentacles haloing his wedge-shaped
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head barely stirred. Probably he was asleep, but with a Mizari's lidless eyes, it was hard to be sure.
A Heeyoon lay curled on a thick pad, long gray muzzle resting against furred forelimbs. The being's hot yellow eyes, long canine teeth, and bushy tail did nothing to dispel the lupine image.
Heeyoons, however, walked erect, unlike Simiu, who moved on all fours.
The Asian student noticed that there was only one Simiu in the
[ group--a burly male with a luxuriant chestnut mane flowing over his muscled shoulders.
Most of the room's considerable noise level came from the dozen human students who were clustered in front of the observation port, which provided them with their first view of StarBridge Academy, only forty kilometers away.
The asteroid was shaped
[ like an inverted, spindly cone, but from this distance, only the
[ four lighted domes were visible, glowing against the blackness like white-gold coins.
Hing glanced quickly at each human face as they moved through the crowd to the opposite side of the lounge, conscious of the
[ interested glances that followed them, taking in their jackets and uniforms.
[ Suddenly, beyond the viewport, a ship burst out of metaspace, trailing a muted explosion of rainbow colors. It was a magnificent sight, and no matter how many times she saw it, it always made Hing's heart beat a little faster.
All her life she'd dreamed of going
[ out into space to live, and sometimes she still felt as though she needed to pinch herself to convince herself she wasn't dreaming, she was really here.
When they reached the other side of the lounge, Hing glanced up at Serge.
He shook his head at her. "I am missing one, by my count."
¦ She nodded wearily. "Yeah, and I'll give you three guesses and
¦¦ the first two don't count as to the identity of our missing student."
She looked at the doors leading from the lounge into the station grimly. "I'll go after her . . . you stall the crowd."
"Hurry," he said.
Hing made her way quickly into the human section of the station, figuring that was where the girl would have gone first.
This area looked like a cross between a huge shopping mall and a
spaceport, with arrival and departure boards flashing for attention.
Shops lined the walls, and benches and food courts were clustered every few hundred meters.
If I were a kid just off a spaceship, where would I go? Hing 18
wondered, then, on impulse, began checking the eateries. Hibernation made some people nauseated--others awakened ravenous. And the younger you are, the quicker you tend to come out of it...
Hing stuck her head into two fast-food places and drew a blank but hit paydirt at the third, an ice-cream shop. There was a flash of red hair in the back, near the servos.
She went in for a closer look. Short-- even shorter than I am- and rather pudgy, the girl in the back was intent on one of the food servos. Hing mentally compared her to the image in Serge's voder and nodded, satisfied that she'd found her quarry. But what in the world is she doing? the student wondered, watching the child. Heather had her pen in her hand and was muttering to it, never taking her eyes off the readouts on the servo.
"Hi," Hing said, trying not to sound too abrupt. "Need any help?" Heather ignored her. Suddenly the lights on the order terminal began to flash in time with the readouts scrolling past on the barrel of the girl's pen. Moments later the servo groaned then delivered an enormous multicolored ice-cream concoction. Hing glanced at the screen on the wall, noting its charge readout
"Employee lunch--no charge."
"You must be hungry," Hing said dryly as Heather put the strawberry, fudge, and pistachio monstrosity down on a nearby table, then plopped herself down, spoon poised.
"Starved, if it's any of your business," the girl snappe Shoveling a mouthful in, she smiled blissfully as her mood visibly improved. "Haven't eaten in four months," she added.
"You must have just come off a ship," Hing said blandly.
"Yeah, the McIntyre," the servo wizard admitted.
Hing pointedly tapped the "employee" readout. "Then you don't work here, do you?" she asked sweetly.
"And neither do you, lady." The girl gave her a contemptuous glance. Hing wondere
d whether the child had read her mind, or was just guessing. She was glad that the revealing StarBridge logo was on the back of her jacket.
"You got a problem, or what?"
Hing's eyes narrowed. Rob Gable, you snake-oil salesman, I 'm never going to let you forget this. "The problem is, what you just did is stealing," she pointed out evenly.
Heather shrugged. "Who the hell appointed you judge and jury bitch? Who the hell do you think you are?"
Smiling evilly, Hing held out her hand. "Hing Own, your new roommate at the Academy at StarBridge. Rob Gable sent me to escort you down to the school"--she glanced at her watch--"and
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if we don't leave now, we'll miss the shuttle."
Heather's mouth dropped open. A thread of hot fudge trickled out, rescued at the last moment by a swipe of her pink tongue. "Oh, shit]" she blurted. Her freckles disappeared as she blushed. "Uh ... I'm sorry! I... uh ... had no idea--"
"Obviously," Hing said dryly. "You won't have time to eat that. We have to go. The whole group's waiting."
"Just a couple of bites along the way?" Heather pleaded as she grabbed her dish and headed out the door after Hing.
"A couple of bites," Hing said as they reached the promenade level. "But it goes in the first recycler we pass."
"Okay .. ."
Hing did not glance around as they walked, concentrating on picking the swiftest, most efficient route back to the lounge. The considerably chastened Heather puffed as she kept up with the older student, but didn't complain.
When they got back to the lounge, Serge was already in midspeech. Hing, in the fore, waved unobtrusively at him and saw the worry line between his eyes smooth away. He nodded at her, still speaking in his flawless Mizari.
"... be taking the shuttle down to the Academy in just a few minutes. We appreciate your patience, and apologize for the delay."
"He's cute]" Heather whispered in Hing's ear as Serge repeated his speech in English and Heeyoon.
Hing turned to her charge and smiled at the worshipful expression in Heather's eyes. "Serge is nice. I'll introduce you," she promised.
Heather gave her a speculative glance. "Did you ever go out with him?"
The older student shrugged noncommittally. "We dated, yes," she said, reminding herself to be patient with the kid.
Heather's pale eyes grew distant. "You did more than just date him," she said a moment later with a knowing grin. "A lot more."
Hing took a deep breath, reining in her temper. "Listen, Heather, I don't know what it's like for telepaths back on Earth, but here at StarBridge, there are rules about reading people's minds without permission. Please don't do that again." The girl ducked her head, seeming genuinely abashed. "I'm sorry, Hing. Honest."
"Okay," the older student said. Glancing down, she noted that the child still held the melting remains of her ice-cream concoction. "I told you to pitch that," she said.
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"You were going so fast I didn't have time to," Heather replied meekly.
"I was in a hurry," Hing admitted. Glancing around, she spotted a recycling chute in the nearest wall and pointed to it. "There's a chute over there."
"Okay," Heather muttered, and began threading her way through the crowd.
Hing turned her attention back to Serge, who was finishing up.
"... and please make sure you have your carry-on luggage with you, then follow me." The crowd began flowing forward, moving toward the escalator and the docking tube.
"Hey!" That was Heather's voice, raised in indignant protest. Hing swung back around, catching a glimpse of that firebrand hair. "Quit shoving, dammit! I almost--"
The girl broke off as she staggered backward, the icecream dish tipping disastrously. A moment later the deep roar of a Simiu voice raised in an outraged bellow filled the air, and Hing saw the big male Simiu sit back on his haunches, his violet eyes wide with surprise, then narrowing in fury. A lump of pistachio ice cream teetered over his right ear, then slithered down the side of his head, plopping into his perfectly groomed mane. The green streaks contrasted hideously with his chestnut fur.
With one hand, the Simiu brushed at the sticky mess, then stared horrified at his fingers. "You have dishonored me!" he snarled in his own language. To anyone who didn't understan Simiu, it sounded like the roar of a wild beast.
"I demand the chance to regain my honor!" he growled, his enormous canine teeth flashing as his muzzle wrinkled in disgust. Bristling with rage, he advanced on Heather.
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CHAPTER 2
Excavations
As the furious Simiu stalked toward Heather, several human students began to titter nervously. "Shut up!" Hing commanded, pushing her way through the crowd. "You're insulting him!"
The laughter died away--except for Heather. She was still giggling as she backed away, eyes wide and fixed on the alien. "Hey," she blurted, "I'm sorry, but it's not my fault! Some asshole shoved me!"
"Heather, stop laughing, and quit staring!" Hing hissed at the girl. She grabbed the child's elbow, halting her. "Stand your ground, but don't show your teeth and don't stare at him--that's a challenge! Look down."
The Simiu's chestnut mane flared up from his head as he halted within striking distance of Hing and Heather. Deliberately, he wrinkled his muzzle, revealing his huge ivory canines, then raised one massive hand. It wasn't a full "challenge display," but there was no mistaking the implied threat.
Seeing those teeth, that hand poised to strike, Heather gasped, suddenly terrified. Her mental scream" tore into Hing's mind. Hing! Help me! He'll kill me! Only the woman's grasp on her arm kept the girl from bolting in panic.
"Stand still, Heather, she ordered mentally. I'll handle this. Calm down.
Slowly, Hing let go of Heather, then stepped out in front of the child, between her and the Simiu. "Greetings, honored fellow
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student," she said quietly in her fluent Simiu. She was grateful for all the patient hours she'd spent mastering the clicks and growls of their speech.
Gracefully, fluidly, she made their ritual greeting gesture, touching her eyes, mouth, and chest, then extending her hand, fingers curled. She was careful not to stare directly at the alien. "I am Hing Own. May I be honored with your name?"
The alien hesitated, then slowly, deliberately, squatted on his hindquarters, regarding her measuringly with his violet eyes. "I am Khuharkk'," he said finally. "And I am not honored at this moment. This rude, careless creature has insulted me, damaged my appearance, and challenged me."
The waiting lounge was utterly still.
"She is a child," Hing said. "What happened was an unfortunate accident, Honored Khuharkk'. Heather intended no dishonor nor disrespect. And, besides .. . how could someone so insignificant damage your honor?"
"She has dishonored me," the alien insisted. "She laughed at my disgrace."
"She intended no offense," Hing said, glancing behind her at the trembling girl. "It was an accident, and she is sorry."
"What concern is it of yours?" the Simiu growled. "Are you declaring yourself her honor-champion?"
"I trust that will not be necessary," Hing said quietly. He's just embarrassed and mad, she thought, hoping she'd gauged the alien correctly. He won't push it to a real challenge. "She is a child, and children need tolerance, is that not so? You have the opportunity to gain great honor here, by teaching this child the virtue of tolerance, starting with your own example."
"I am not convinced that she is capable of learning," the alien said, still sulky, but he was definitely beginning to relent; his flaring crest of mane relaxed. She felt a rush of relief.
"I promise that I will explain her error to her, and help her learn from her mistake," Hing said firmly. "In the future I am certain she will be more careful.
May I have the honor of assisting you in restoring your appearance?"
After another long moment, the Simiu raised a conciliatory hand. "You have acted with honor, Honored HingOun. Consider the
matter ended." Then slowly, respectfully, he made the greeting gesture to Hing. "I am Khuharkk'. I would be pleased to have you aid me with my grooming."
Hing turned and nodded reassuringly at Heather, who was still cowering behind her. "Stay here," she whispered. "It's okay now."
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With Khuharkk' striding beside her, Hing turned and headed for the rest room. As she did so, she saw Serge, who was on the edge of the circle of onlookers. Catching her eye, he gave her an admiring smile and a quick thumbs-up.
"We'll be back in a minute," Hing said softly to him as they passed.
"We will wait," he promised.
Serge stood staring after Hing and the Simiu as they made their way through the crowd. Ruefully he shook his head. She communicates so well, he thought enviously. I will never develop that rapport with aliens. .. or humans either, for that matter. ..
It was more than the fact that Hing was majoring in the Simiu language. She had an undeniable knack with people-- and it didn't matter whether those people were covered with flesh, fur, or scales. As he watched her turn the corner and disappear, feelings he'd thought dead for months welled up all over again, just as painfully as they ever had.
Serge swallowed, fighting down a surge of longing, experiencing again the hurt anger and terrible loneliness that had filled him that last night, when she'd packed her things and walked out of the suite they'd shared for six months.
The sound of a muffled sob made him turn. Heather Farley was standing in the midst of the muttering crowd, ice cream dripping down the front of her coverall. Angrily, she swiped at her tears with the back of her hand, leaving chocolate trails. Serge moved closer to her, unobtrusively waving the human students away. He whiffed an acrid, familiar odor as he reached her, and it was then that he noticed the dark stain between the legs of the girl's coverall and realized what had happened. Pauvrette, he thought, feeling a wave of pity.
Schooling his features, he gave no indication that he'd noticed her accident as he bent down to speak to her quietly. "Hello, you must be Heather Farley.
I am Serge LaRoche. Are you okay?"
She shifted uncomfortably, legs pressed tightly together, blushing furiously.