I told you the trip would tire you,” Elviiz scolded. “My optical sensors detect a definite translucency in your horn.”
“My horn and I were fine until you decided I needed to purify the entire water supply of Dinero Grande,” Khorii replied. “And the sewers besides. Yuck.”
“Had you not insisted on relocating Marl Fidd, you would be fine. I did not intend for you to perform all of the purification yourself, only to ascertain the need for it.”
“There was no sense in leaving it to infect someone else,” she told him. “Now, if you’ll stop nagging, I’m going to take a nap.”
It had taken hours to find the waterways and sewer system and purify each separate component. Then they had to wait for the shuttle to pick them up. Khorii had yawned all the way to the Mana and, once aboard, had grazed her fill in the ’ponics garden before returning to the bridge. She kept nodding off there, too. Elviiz had busied himself double-checking the security arrangements for Fidd while Hap happily occupied himself in the engine room. She didn’t get any real sleep aboard ship, however, because Khiindi jumped onto her lap the moment she sat and yowled at her. When she tried to ignore him, he used claws. He was very upset about something, but, then, Khiindi could be excitable. Perhaps he was protesting Marl Fidd’s presence on board again.
The trip back to Corazon, once begun, was not a long one, so she stroked and comforted her furry friend for the duration, though her attentions only diminished his anxiety enough that instead of yowling at her and clawing, he spoke to her in raucous meows, flipping his tail and flattening his ears when she tried to pet his head.
She let Jalonzo and his friends deal with Fidd. Hap helped, but then returned to the Mana. He and Jaya wanted to repair and refurbish it for longer journeys it would be making soon with decontaminated supplies it would carry to the plague survivors on other worlds.
The rain was falling again, though full darkness had not yet descended and the wind was merely brisk, the lightning flashes distant. The hailstones of the previous night had melted into puddles.
Khorii stopped by Sesseli’s room to tell the child she had returned, but the little girl was not there. Probably she was in the common room helping Abuelita with the baking.
Khiindi rode her shoulders all the way to her room, but when she tried to shut the door he became agitated again, so she propped it open before throwing herself onto her bed. In a few moments she was back on Vhiliinyar with her family.
Everyone was there, grazing and racing with the ancestors, Mother, Father, her, Ariinye, Elviiz, Maak, Uncle Joh, Khiindi, and RK. Their meadow was the one near the entrance to the time caves, surrounded by the mountains on three sides with the lake on the fourth. All around the tops of the mountains stood their friends and relatives including both sets of Linyaari grandparents, Father-Sister Maati, her mate Thariinye, Great-aunt Neeva, Khaari, and Melireenya of the Balakiire, Mother’s old ship. Maarni and Yiitir, the resident experts on Linyaari folklore and history were there and even Uncle Hafiz and Aunt Karina, who looked oddly Linyaari from this distance.
In the lake, their distant relatives, the alarming-looking sii-Linyaari dived and played with some of the poopuus, the sea-dwelling humanoids Khorii had befriended on Maganos Moonbase. They were visiting especially for the occasion and to meet the sii-Linyaari, about whom Khorii had told them so much.
But what was the occasion exactly? It was a party, that much was evident. She felt as if she’d just arrived, but she wasn’t sure how she knew that. “Are we having a festival?” she asked her mother.
“No, yaazi, we are celebrating the homecoming. Now that the plague has been conquered and our people have returned, we have plenty of cause to celebrate, don’t we?”
“And best of all, you’re here,” Ariinye said, taking Khorii’s hands. It was like looking into a lake and seeing her own reflection. Ariinye’s hair was even styled and streaked like Khorii’s, though hers bore an aqua streak instead of fuchsia. “I missed you, sister. Let’s race.”
Their hooves pounded across the meadow making an alarming racket, much louder than they should have sounded in the tall, luscious grass. Then something soft touched her lips. She opened her eyes to see Khiindi looking down at her. Someone was pounding on the door of her room.
“Khorii, the Balakiire has just landed,” Elviiz said. “It would be courteous for you to greet them.”
She rose, dumping Khiindi off onto the bed. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream, she thought, sad for a moment, and missing her family. She should have known it was a dream. She didn’t even have a sister, much less a twin. She was a bit like the Condor, with Elviiz as her android brother and Khiindi as her feline brother. It would be great to have a sister. A tear surprised her, and she wiped it away. She was still tired. That was why she felt teary over a silly dream. She should have listened to Elviiz and let Marl stew in his own filth for a while longer. He hadn’t seemed to mind particularly or been the worse for wear except to be dirtier and chubbier. Now that the Balakiire was here to take her on a mission to save sick people, she wasn’t ready.
“Do not hurry on our account, Khorii,” Aunt Neeva’s thought touched Khorii’s mind like a balm. It was so good to feel her there again. “Elviiz explained the situation to us, and you did well. You must rest before we set out again, but we can spare the time. The quarantine successfully contained the plague in many areas, and in those that were stricken, it seems to have run its course. No new outbreaks have been reported. We will need you to do a sweep with us soon to affirm that, but unless we hear differently from one of the other ships, our healing missions may be over. We may need fresh teams to help rebuild and restructure the societies on the stricken worlds, perhaps even improve that aspect of them, but many of us can go home.”
Khorii brightened, clapping her hands excitedly at the news. “I knew that! It was in my dream. I must have been picking it up from your thoughts as you landed. There was a wonderful party at home with my parents and everyone. I even dreamed I had a twin sister!”
“That would be startling news to your parents,” Aunt Neeva said with a smile in her thought. One without visible teeth, of course. Showing teeth, Khorii would have to remember when she went home, was considered hostile among the Linyaari. To show teeth meant “I’m thinking of biting you.”
“I had a good rest,” Khorii said. “I should be ready to go with you soon.”
She pulled on her shipsuit and slipped on the starscape bracelet Captain Bates had made for her so she could show it to Aunt Neeva and the others. Elviiz was waiting for her outside, but she found that hearing Aunt Neeva’s news had a restorative effect that, coupled with her sleep and the wonderful dream, made her feel downright frisky. She passed Elviiz and trotted down the hall so full of energy that a straight run was too tame for her, so she had to do pirouettes and leap up and try to touch the ceiling from time to time just for the joy of it. The dream wasn’t just a wish! It was going to come true very soon. She wondered if the poopuus could come for a holiday. Maybe what was left of their families on their old world could come, too. Their planet was dying. Other species had never been allowed on Vhiliinyar, but that was changing a little, now that her people had seen how good people like Uncle Hafiz and Captain Becker were. And so many Linyaari had come to the rescue of the plague-ridden planets—some of the most conservative of her people, who ordinarily would never leave their homeworld, had come to help. In the process they would no doubt have become less wary of other races, even the humanoid ones populating most of this galaxy.
She raced down toward the common room, but even before she reached it her mood changed abruptly. An overwhelming wave of fresh grief flooded through her. Entering, she saw the noon meal in progress and the room filled with youngsters and elders, many of whose faces were so mournful the emotions overflowed into tears. The younger children howled and shrilled demands for their mothers, fathers, or other loved ones, long since dead and buried.
Khorii sighed. Abuelita and her helpers, also sniffling, carried plates of cinnamony churros from table to table, calming a slender path through the cacophony. Khorii met Jalonzo’s grandmother in the middle of the room, when her plate was empty. “What brought this on?” she asked, having no wish to try probing all of these chaotic minds.
“Last night three of the niños saw their mothers, two saw their fathers and Concepcion Mendez saw her daughter, Anunciata, who left behind three children. Two died but the other, little Elena, saw her mother, too. Anunciata and all of the others have been dead since before you arrived, Khorii, and are buried in the square with the others.”
“Why would they all dream the same thing in the same night?” Khorii asked, looking around.
“They swear, Concepcion as well as the children, that it was no dream that woke them, but truly their lost ones. No sooner had each of them awakened than the dead relative left them. Concepcion, who was a schoolmate of mine and, I tell you, lacks all imagination, was so convinced she saw her daughter that she grabbed her cane and pursued the girl, convinced a miracle had occurred.
“But the girl did not look back and did not wait and disappeared down the street.”
“Did any of the children try to follow their parents?”
Abuelita nodded. “But none turned back for them or spoke a word. If they were ghosts, it was cruel to return and remind people of what they’ve lost, especially the little ones. The young forget and get on with life quickly if allowed. But deep down, they still grieve and are confused, and these wraiths or dreams or whatever they were resurrected that.”
It was a good thing Khorii was telepathic because if she had not been, she would have missed much of what Abuelita said. In some areas the wails gave way to sniffles, but other sections of the room were as loud as ever.
“Is that why they were all crying?” Khorii asked. “Why? When only six people saw the dead?”
“You are too young to know about children, and perhaps children of your people do not behave the same way, but generally when one starts crying, all of the others follow suit. Me, I am near tears myself.”
Khiindi, who might have comforted the children, instead circled Khorii, meowing anxiously up at her, as if demanding to know what she intended to do about this.
Elviiz stood in the doorway from the dormitories looking puzzled. And then, to Khorii’s intense relief, four tall white figures with silvery manes and shining horns like her own entered from the street.
Neeva, Melireenya, Khaari, and a young male Khorii had seen before but did not know well, took in the scene. Almost at once, the remaining howls and wails descended into sobs, sniffles, and in a matter of seconds, to smiles and chatter once more.
“How did you do that?” Khorii asked Neeva.
“You still have much to learn about using your telepathic powers,” Neeva replied.
“And it helps that there are now five of us,” the young male added, as Khorii began to feel that she should have less time quizzing Abuelita and more time comforting the children.
Even Khiindi had found a lap to purr on.
“I have to learn to do that,” Khorii told the other Linyaari. “It would have been useful so often before.”
“It’s as well that you did not,” Neeva said. “We need you to come back out with us and confirm that the plague has died out in some areas of its own accord. Once we know for sure, we can make plans for restoration and for our own return home.”
“These yaazis think they saw their dead parents?” the Linyaari boy asked. “Don’t they know that spirits do not return to the same bodies and lead the same lives, but are reborn as foals to begin again?”
“All cultures do not believe as we do, Mikaaye,” Melireenya said, then Khorii remembered who he was. This was Melireenya’s son. He had been on narhii-Vhiliinyar with his father, helping shape a new and less exclusive Linyaari society.
Khorii joined them at one of the tables near the door. Now that the children were done crying, they were curious about the newcomers. By now they knew Khorii, but they had not seen so many Linyaari all together. And the calming influence the newcomers had sent to soothe them let the children know they were not only approachable, but in control. Several came up to the table with practiced grimaces, showing off scratches or scrapes and asking for healing. One enterprising little girl ran out to the grassy strip between the building and the sidewalk and picked a handful of grass she offered to Neeva, who accepted it graciously but did not actually eat any.
“Odd things have been happening here,” Khorii told the other Linyaari. “I don’t think I should leave here. They need me.”
“We all need you, yaazi,” Melireenya said.
Sesseli burst through the dormitory door and ran to Khorii. “You’re not going to leave now, are you? I don’t want you to go!”
“Shush, Sess, you’ll make all the babies cry again,” Khorii said, hugging her. “I’ll be back, but my relatives think the plague may be ending, and they need me to make sure. You know I’m the only one who can do that.”
“Yes, but who will take care of all the little children if they get hurt or sick again?” Sesseli asked. She didn’t mention that, with Khorii and Khiindi gone, she would feel lost, too.
“Abuelita will need you to help her, and Captain Bates might need help teaching the children about the beads and sewing.”
“And I will need you to teach me everybody’s name and where everything is,” Mikaaye said. “Because you are right, of course. Someone must stay and look after the injuries and illnesses among your people. I cannot see the plague as Khorii can, but I can do all of the other things, so I will stay to help you. I am Mikaaye.”
Sesseli composed her face and stuck out her small, soft hand. “I am Sesseli, Mikaaye. Do you have a kitty?”