Sweep in Peace
Page 59
That’s why he’d fled from the pond. He knew that he would go back to Nexus. He would never see the pond in summer. He would never see me again. He never cook another barbeque in my back yard and sneak bones to Beast. I would never hear him crack another joke. He…
Nuan Cee had said something, just before I passed out. He said, “Do I have your word?”
Ice shot through me. “What did you promise Nuan Cee to save me?”
Sean smiled. “Nothing I regret. You’re alive. It makes me happy.”
“Sean?”
He didn’t say anything.
I spun around and dashed up the stairs to the Merchant quarters.
I found Nuan Cee sitting alone in the front room. The huge screen on the wall was glowing. A recording of some Merchant festival played, its sound muted to mere murmur, as foxes in bright garments twirled long ribbons while dancing through the streets.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he said quietly.
“What did he promise you?”
“Lifetime of service,” Nuan Cee said, his voice mournful. “A life for a life. A fair trade.”
No. No, I don’t think so. Sean Evans wouldn’t die for me. I had to save him now. I came over and sat on the couch.
I looked at the screen. The festival recording melted, obeying my push, and a different image took over the screen. Massive tree trunks twisted between the spires of grey and white stone, each branch as wide as a highway, bearing clouds of blue and turquoise leaves. Pink flowers bloomed on long indigo vines. Golden moss sheathed the trunks, catching the rays of bright sun. A massive feline predator, its fur splattered with rosettes of black and cream, made it way down one of the branches, keeping to the shadows, its massive black claws scratching the moss lightly.
“I once asked my father how the lees became the dominant species on their planet,” I said.
Nuan Cee winced. Few knew the true name of the Merchants’ species and outsiders weren’t supposed to say it out loud, but I was past the point of caring.
The predator kept moving down the trunk. The view slid down, to a spot below where, tucked into a crook between a small, thin branch and the massive tree limb, a single fox sat, gathered into a tiny ball. His blue fur was striped with white and black paint. Compared to the predator, he was tiny. The feline beast could swallow him in two gulps.
“After all, you are so small and your birth planet is so vicious.”
The feline beast smelled the air. He was almost to the fox.
“Do you know what my father told me?”
On screen the fox’s bright indigo eyes opened wide.
“He told me to never trust a lees, for they are smart and crafty, and when their negotiations fail, they kill to get what they want.”
On the screen the small fox shot out from under the massive tree branch, leaping into the air, a blow gun at his lips. A tiny dart shot out and bit into the fur of the feline hunter. The beast shuddered, wracked by convulsions, struggling to stay on its feet. The fox landed next to it on soft paws and yanked a dagger from the sheath at his waist. His black lips drew back, baring savage teeth. His muzzle wrinkled. A deranged light flared in his eyes. The fox fighter fell on the convulsing beast, stabbing its throat again and again, flinging blood everywhere in a frenzy. There was nothing refined about it. Nothing civilized or calm. It was a pure, primordial bloodlust, brutal and violent.
Nuan Cee looked away from the screen, averting his eyes.
“I had seen the shape of my poisoner. It was short. Short like a lees. Then you showed up with an antidote to a poison that couldn’t be found even in the Arbiter’s extensive database. One of your people tried to kill me.”
“It wasn’t sanctioned.”
“The inn marked my poisoner.”
Nuan Cee winced.
“Why did you do it?”
“It wasn’t done on my orders and I will punish the one responsible. Someone used my image disruptor, but I don’t know how. It is very expensive and I am the only one who has one. It was completely secure and it is untouched in my quarters. I had used it only once.”
He’d used… “You took the emerald?”
“Yes. I was wearing the disruptor that night under my clothes. Everyone was so busy, it took mere seconds.”
“You’ve abused my hospitality.”
Nuan Cee sighed. “We did. We are indebted to you.”
I was so sick of trading favors. “Let him go.”
“No.”
“Nuan Cee! You owe me. You broke the rules of hospitality. You broke your people’s treaty with the Innkeepers of Earth. You should’ve healed me anyway. Sean didn’t know this, and you took advantage of him.”
“Yes. His bargain with me is separate from your bargain.”
“Let him go.”
“I can’t. Anything but that.”
“Why?” I snarled.
Nuan Cee spread his paws. “There were forty-two Turan Adins since the war on Nexus began. Some lasted mere days. He’s been on Nexus for a cycle and a half. You don’t even know how special that is. He’s too good. He lasted longer than even the original one. I was terrified because he refused to sign another contract. He said he would walk as soon as we found a replacement. But now he will stay. All will be well.”
“All won’t be well. The Nexus is killing him.”
“It will eventually. But until then, he will lead our defenses.”
“Release him. This is what I want.”
“No. Ask anything else.”
“Damn it, don’t you have a crumb of conscience? Is there any drop of kindness in your soul, or is it all just cold dark greed?”
Nuan Cee bared his teeth. “There are three thousand of our people on Nexus. There are families and children. He is keeping them alive.”
“What the hell were you thinking, putting children on Nexus in the first place? Move them out.”
“Don’t you think I would if I could? They have no place to go. They are not welcome anywhere.”
The realization hit me. The Kuan lees, the cast outs. He had staffed Nexus colony with the exiles.
Nuan Cee turned away and waved at the screen, his paw limp. “Archive number ten twenty-four.”
A long procession of foxes appeared on the screen, moving one by one into a shrine, carrying little lanterns.
“In our society, family is everything. Clan is everything. When I look back, I should see the line of my ancestors stretching through time, long and unbroken. It is they who give us strength and wisdom. Our clan. Our pack. Our past and the wealth of our clan’s deeds. When one of us commits a crime, when he or she is found weak or unworthy, they are cast out. Such is the way of the forest. Only the strong and the useful survive. The cast outs are cut off from their clan. They have no shrines. They can’t pray to their ancestors. They can’t ask for solace or guidance. Their children grow up adrift, not knowing where they come from, branches severed from the tree of their clan and family forever. Some don’t even know their fathers. They have no home. They’re not welcome anywhere. My father was a Kuan. He was a criminal and the son of a criminal.”
Nuan Cee had said something, just before I passed out. He said, “Do I have your word?”
Ice shot through me. “What did you promise Nuan Cee to save me?”
Sean smiled. “Nothing I regret. You’re alive. It makes me happy.”
“Sean?”
He didn’t say anything.
I spun around and dashed up the stairs to the Merchant quarters.
I found Nuan Cee sitting alone in the front room. The huge screen on the wall was glowing. A recording of some Merchant festival played, its sound muted to mere murmur, as foxes in bright garments twirled long ribbons while dancing through the streets.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he said quietly.
“What did he promise you?”
“Lifetime of service,” Nuan Cee said, his voice mournful. “A life for a life. A fair trade.”
No. No, I don’t think so. Sean Evans wouldn’t die for me. I had to save him now. I came over and sat on the couch.
I looked at the screen. The festival recording melted, obeying my push, and a different image took over the screen. Massive tree trunks twisted between the spires of grey and white stone, each branch as wide as a highway, bearing clouds of blue and turquoise leaves. Pink flowers bloomed on long indigo vines. Golden moss sheathed the trunks, catching the rays of bright sun. A massive feline predator, its fur splattered with rosettes of black and cream, made it way down one of the branches, keeping to the shadows, its massive black claws scratching the moss lightly.
“I once asked my father how the lees became the dominant species on their planet,” I said.
Nuan Cee winced. Few knew the true name of the Merchants’ species and outsiders weren’t supposed to say it out loud, but I was past the point of caring.
The predator kept moving down the trunk. The view slid down, to a spot below where, tucked into a crook between a small, thin branch and the massive tree limb, a single fox sat, gathered into a tiny ball. His blue fur was striped with white and black paint. Compared to the predator, he was tiny. The feline beast could swallow him in two gulps.
“After all, you are so small and your birth planet is so vicious.”
The feline beast smelled the air. He was almost to the fox.
“Do you know what my father told me?”
On screen the fox’s bright indigo eyes opened wide.
“He told me to never trust a lees, for they are smart and crafty, and when their negotiations fail, they kill to get what they want.”
On the screen the small fox shot out from under the massive tree branch, leaping into the air, a blow gun at his lips. A tiny dart shot out and bit into the fur of the feline hunter. The beast shuddered, wracked by convulsions, struggling to stay on its feet. The fox landed next to it on soft paws and yanked a dagger from the sheath at his waist. His black lips drew back, baring savage teeth. His muzzle wrinkled. A deranged light flared in his eyes. The fox fighter fell on the convulsing beast, stabbing its throat again and again, flinging blood everywhere in a frenzy. There was nothing refined about it. Nothing civilized or calm. It was a pure, primordial bloodlust, brutal and violent.
Nuan Cee looked away from the screen, averting his eyes.
“I had seen the shape of my poisoner. It was short. Short like a lees. Then you showed up with an antidote to a poison that couldn’t be found even in the Arbiter’s extensive database. One of your people tried to kill me.”
“It wasn’t sanctioned.”
“The inn marked my poisoner.”
Nuan Cee winced.
“Why did you do it?”
“It wasn’t done on my orders and I will punish the one responsible. Someone used my image disruptor, but I don’t know how. It is very expensive and I am the only one who has one. It was completely secure and it is untouched in my quarters. I had used it only once.”
He’d used… “You took the emerald?”
“Yes. I was wearing the disruptor that night under my clothes. Everyone was so busy, it took mere seconds.”
“You’ve abused my hospitality.”
Nuan Cee sighed. “We did. We are indebted to you.”
I was so sick of trading favors. “Let him go.”
“No.”
“Nuan Cee! You owe me. You broke the rules of hospitality. You broke your people’s treaty with the Innkeepers of Earth. You should’ve healed me anyway. Sean didn’t know this, and you took advantage of him.”
“Yes. His bargain with me is separate from your bargain.”
“Let him go.”
“I can’t. Anything but that.”
“Why?” I snarled.
Nuan Cee spread his paws. “There were forty-two Turan Adins since the war on Nexus began. Some lasted mere days. He’s been on Nexus for a cycle and a half. You don’t even know how special that is. He’s too good. He lasted longer than even the original one. I was terrified because he refused to sign another contract. He said he would walk as soon as we found a replacement. But now he will stay. All will be well.”
“All won’t be well. The Nexus is killing him.”
“It will eventually. But until then, he will lead our defenses.”
“Release him. This is what I want.”
“No. Ask anything else.”
“Damn it, don’t you have a crumb of conscience? Is there any drop of kindness in your soul, or is it all just cold dark greed?”
Nuan Cee bared his teeth. “There are three thousand of our people on Nexus. There are families and children. He is keeping them alive.”
“What the hell were you thinking, putting children on Nexus in the first place? Move them out.”
“Don’t you think I would if I could? They have no place to go. They are not welcome anywhere.”
The realization hit me. The Kuan lees, the cast outs. He had staffed Nexus colony with the exiles.
Nuan Cee turned away and waved at the screen, his paw limp. “Archive number ten twenty-four.”
A long procession of foxes appeared on the screen, moving one by one into a shrine, carrying little lanterns.
“In our society, family is everything. Clan is everything. When I look back, I should see the line of my ancestors stretching through time, long and unbroken. It is they who give us strength and wisdom. Our clan. Our pack. Our past and the wealth of our clan’s deeds. When one of us commits a crime, when he or she is found weak or unworthy, they are cast out. Such is the way of the forest. Only the strong and the useful survive. The cast outs are cut off from their clan. They have no shrines. They can’t pray to their ancestors. They can’t ask for solace or guidance. Their children grow up adrift, not knowing where they come from, branches severed from the tree of their clan and family forever. Some don’t even know their fathers. They have no home. They’re not welcome anywhere. My father was a Kuan. He was a criminal and the son of a criminal.”
