CLARION 153
William Greenleaf
"Female, yes," Dorland said. "She gave me her name, but I couldn't get it right. She was here only a few minutes, then she . . . faded away. I don't know why. She talked to me. I couldn't understand much of what she said, but there's no doubt she's Tal Tahir."
Paul tried again to get his thoughts in order. She's Tal Tahir. That made no sense. Lord Tern certainly did not resemble a man, but at least he had two legs and two functioning arms and a head that looked somewhat humanoid. The creature that had stood swaying above the chauka had none of those things. One part of what Dorland had said somehow
struck him as even more implausible than the rest.
"You talked to her?"
Dorland nodded.
"I didn't—"
"You and the others blacked out. She tried to communicate, but it was too strong for you. She knew something was wrong, and was trying to overcome it. I think she had determined a way to lessen the effect of her presence on you before she went away."
"But you ..."
"My training helped, somehow. The technique Elder Jamis taught me—I was able to close off those parts of my mind that were affected by her communication. I've never done it before, but it seemed natural."
"How long were we out?" Karyn asked.
"About ten minutes." Dorland's eyes moved restlessly around the room, returned to the chauka.
"That's how long she stayed."
Paul focused his eyes on Dorland. "How do you know she was Tal Tahir?"
"She told me."
"But—" Paul drew a steadying breath. "If she's Tal Tahir, then Lord Tern—"
"That's a problem." Dorland didn't seem too concerned. He looked down at his hand, and Paul realized he held the Godstone. The silver disk had been the key after all. // 's like a public commset: you put in your udit card and make your call.
"We'll have to ask her about Lord Tern," Dorland went on. "I'm sure she can help us find a way to stop High Elder Brill and Lord Tern."
"She's gone," Paul pointed out.
"We can bring her back with the Godstone," Dorland said. He held up the disk in his hand. "Her Godstone."
Paul stared at him. "How can you be so sure she can help us after a ten-minute chat?"
"It's just a ... feeling I got." Dorland turned back to the chauka. "She isn't dangerous. She doesn't want to hurt anybody. Surely you could feel that."
The creature hadn't looked dangerous, Paul had to admit. While Lord Tern's appearance suggested that he was built for speed and strength, this creature looked almost planted in place. Those thin, dangling upper limbs and the cone-shaped body made it look anything but aggressive. And this creature had . . . felt different inside. The alien sensation that had crawled through Paul from Lord Tern had been icy cold. This time the feeling had not been exactly comfortable, but neither had it been terribly unpleasant.
"You really think she can help us?" Karyn asked.
"I'm sure of it."
Karyn's eyes went again to the chauka. "Then I think we should call her back if we can."
"Me, too," Selmer agreed.
Paul knew it would be pointless to argue. "We'll let Dorland do it alone this time. It doesn't bother him. The rest of us can wait outside."
"I think you should stay," Dorland said. "She wants to speak to you, too."
"After what happened? I don't—"
154
William Greenleaf CLARION
155
"She understands now that you're vulnerable. She'll be more careful."
Paul laughed harshly. "I suppose she told you that, too."
"Yes."
Paul gave up. He braced himself against the wall and said, "Go ahead."
Dorland eagerly turned back to the chauka and touched the disk to the rod. The snap\ came again, and the haze formed above the dish. Shadows twisted. Then the creature began to take shape, and a moment later stood facing them. Paul realized that the conelike body had depressions and bulges all over it, and cavities he didn't want to look at too closely. There was no clothing that he could discern, nor ornamentation of any kind. He winced as he felt a tentative tingle in his mind, then a drawing away.
She's being careful this time, he thought.
A flap near the top of the cone drew open.
Something came out of it on two flexible tendons and wavered toward Paul.
"She wants you to step closer," Dorland said quietly.
The tingle was back, but this time Paul felt an odd sensation with it. A sense of beckoning. He resisted, and felt a warm rush of... affection?
He did not feel danger. He drew a steadying breath and forced himself to step forward until his shins were touching the edge of the dish. He saw now that the creature's extended tendons flared slightly at the ends into small round nubs of tissue. He stood rigid while the two nubs hovered around his face. They passed by his eyes, then withdrew to perch together under the closed flap.
The pressure began to grow again in his mind. He flinched, and the feeling instantly withdrew to hover at the, edge of awareness like a barely heard sound. It was alien, but nothing like the caged hatred he'd felt from Lord Tern. This was calmer, almost soothing.
"She's trying to communicate," Dorland said.
"She's . . . asking—" He shook his head and looked up at the creature. "I lost it." Paul thought: We've rubbed the magic lantern, and we have our genie. Now if we could only talk to it. ..
Something touched his mind again. He felt an unmistakable sense of gender. There was nothing about the creature's physical appearance to suggest that Dorland was right, but somehow Paul knew he was. The creature was female.
He felt another wavering impression:
*(?)*
Then something else came—almost a sound, but very vague. He cocked his head, listening.
*Kra'ith*
It was a sound, but it registered in Paul's mind even though he knew his ears had not picked it up. The single word was accompanied by a feeling of—
Paul frowned. Acceptance? He glanced at Dorland, and could see that Dorland had felt it, too. Something familiar, like meeting a close friend after a long separation.
*Kra'ith (?)*
Dorland and Paul looked at each other.
"Her name?" Paul suggested.
"I'm not sure," Dorland said. "I think she's asking a question."
Paul realized he'd felt it, too. A query. "Maybe she wants to know who we are."
*Kra'ith (7)*
"I don't think so," Karyn said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was steady but strained. She did not step closer to the chauka. "It feels . . . different from a question about a name."
"I wonder—" Dorland began. Then something else came through:
156
William Greenleaf
*Eh-hli-seph-eh*
A feeling of belonging came with that.
"•That's her name," Karyn said.
Paul knew instinctively that she was right. How did I /enow? An impression, but solid enough to make him certain. He realized then that what came to his mind was more than sounds.
*Eh-hli-seph-eh*
Paul tried to repeat the word aloud but found that he couldn't get his human tongue around it.
"Elli," Dorland said.
The creature's sensor nubs moved back and
forth. Dorland pointed at the creature. "Elli."
"•Eh-hli*
"Close enough," Dorland said. He hitched himself up onto one of the pedestals. "Let's get to work."