Samhain Publishing Ltd, Ebooks and Books in Print

On Wings, Rising

He watched the Angel for nearly an hour. He could hardly do anything else—leaving him to go fossicking was unthinkable, and there were no immediately urgent tasks. How long would this delay him? If the Angel didn’t die—which Dinun sincerely hoped he didn’t—his recovery could take a while. A lot depended on where the other Angels were, and if they could help this one. Oh, well. It wasn’t like he was on a tight schedule or anything.

Finally, Almi groaned herself awake and went to stand. Dinun had to jump in and support the Angel’s head while she lumbered to her feet and wandered off in search of water and feed. As he cast about for something to pillow the Angel’s head against the hard ground, he found himself staring into a pair of enormous, unblinking green eyes.

::Uncertain. Afraid. Curious. Pain::

Dinun jumped a little in surprise. This telepathy thing took a bit of getting used to. It was like having another person in his brain.

“Take it easy. You’re safe.” He scrabbled for his pack and shoved it under the Angel’s neck. The Angel slumped wearily onto it as if the brief exertion of holding his head up for those few seconds had been too much.

::Grateful. Pain::

Dinun suddenly had an image in his mind of a pool of water, then a stream. After he got over the surprise of pictures being so abruptly shoved into his thoughts, he worked out what they meant. The Angel wanted to drink. “You’re thirsty? Of course you are.”

His metal cup confused the creature. He had to resort to pouring water into his cupped hand so the Angel could lap it. He fed most of a canteen to the Angel in this manner, a long process that left the injured creature panting for breath, eyes half-closed. The Angel undoubtedly needed more fluid, but too much and he would only vomit it up.

He let the Angel rest for a little while until he had his breathing under control. Then Dinun fetched the food pail with the cooked dakan and tore off a tender piece of breast meat. He held it out to the Angel and let him sniff. “It’s food. Safe to eat, I promise.”

The Angel nibbled delicately at it and seemed to find it acceptable. Dinun fed him tiny bits of dakan flesh, careful not to give him any piece big enough to choke on. The Angel took each bite between pointed, perfect white teeth, chewing carefully before swallowing. Dinun imagined the creature’s skin recovering a healthy colour with each swallow.

The Angel fell asleep after consuming most of the dakan breast. Since he was apparently in no imminent danger of dying, Dinun thought he could risk attending to some minor chores close to camp, like seeing to the smoked dakan and collecting more firewood. As he picked up fallen branches and twigs for tinder, he spotted the telltale purple shine of a treten vein in the rock wall above him. If and when he finished nursing the Angel, there were rich pickings here. Somehow, with the wonder of an Angel lying by his campfire, he found it hard to be excited about a few bits of admittedly valuable stone.

The Angel slept all morning while Dinun kept watch between his chores. Now he gave some thought as to what to do with him. Likely the creature needed more medical aid than Dinun’s little kit or his basic training could provide. That meant taking him back to Getake, unless he could contact other Angels for help. Would he survive the jolting journey and two days on the road? Would he even allow it? And would the settlement treat the Angel with respect or with fear?

Angels were deemed to be humanoids and protected from persecution by strict laws. The same penalties applied to killing one as would apply to killing Dinun—though Dinun wasn’t treated all that well by many of Getake’s residents. Still, to save the Angel’s life, Dinun would have to risk it, and if the Angel was strong enough to fight him, then he was strong enough to leave on his own two feet—or on his own two wings. Though it would be some time before the Angel could fly again. It was a nasty break.

At noon as Dinun returned from a short foray to collect mushrooms and drain his sap collectors, he found the Angel awake and alert. A picture of the dakan in the food pail flashed into his mind.

::Hungry::

“What, already? Okay.”

The Angel was definitely stronger—and ravenous. Once Dinun helped him to sit up a little, he could feed himself, and in hardly any time at all, had stripped the remaining flesh from the cooked dakan and was looking around for more. Slightly amused by the greediness, Dinun produced the second dakan, wondering if the smoked flavour would deter his patient, but no. After a couple of exploratory sniffs, the Angel tore into it, pausing only to drink some water from Dinun’s cup—again, after some sniffing. The metal clearly bothered him but not enough to stop him drinking a whole flask of water along with the entire second fowl.

Even after all that, Dinun still had a flash of hopeful ::Hungry:: but he wagged his finger. “You’ll explode. Rest for a bit.”

The Angel stared at him as if processing his words or the thoughts behind it. “Yes.”

Dinun blinked. Had the Angel used the word or had Dinun read it into an emotion of assent? “You understand me?”

Another long pause. “Yes. You. Mind. Take. Slow.” ::Tired. Pain::

“That’s incredible. Here, let me.”

The Angel wanted to sit up straighter than Dinun’s pack allowed, so Dinun shifted him back to a boulder, propping him up carefully with the pack to lean on if he wanted.

::Grateful::

“That’s okay. What’s your name? And how were you hurt?”

“Name?” ::Confused::

“What do I call you?” He pointed to himself. “I’m Dinun.”

“Dinun. Meaning?”

“Uh. It doesn’t really have a meaning. It was my grandfather’s name.”

“Parental relative meaning.” ::Confused::

“Our names don’t always mean something. ‘Dinun’ just means ‘me’.”

“Dinun.” Then Dinun received an image of his own face. “Yes.”

Conversations were going to take forever. “Your name?” He pointed at the Angel. He received an image of Quarn’s three moons. “Moon?” But then the image narrowed to the smallest of the satellites. “Heshi?”

“Heshi?” ::Confused::

Dinun realised there was no way that the Angel could know the human name for the object. “Uh, Smallest Moon? Small Moon?”

“Small Moon. Possible. Yes.” And just to reinforce it, the picture of Heshi came up again.

“So you’re Small Moon. Moon for short.” The Angel’s rather inexpressive face actually wrinkled a little as he projected more confusion. “Never mind. I’ll call you ‘Moon’ but think ‘Small Moon’. Who attacked you?” He pointed at the damaged wing. “Someone like me?”

“No.” ::Angry. Sorrowful:: Dinun saw in his mind a face, clearly human and male but at the same time alien, with small, light-coloured eyes, fleshy nose and skin the sickly milky-white of peeled doem flesh. “Take child relative.” ::Raging::

Dinun rocked back on his heels with the force of Moon’s sudden fury. “That’s a full-blood human. He took…” He tried to puzzle out “child relative”. “Your baby?”

Reaching Higher

Nobody said anything for several moments after the two of them left. Raelne bit his lip. “You’re going to pay that guy a bonus, right?”

“There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate someone for this treatment.”

“I’m sorry—”

Suaj made an angry slicing motion. “The only thing more irritating than Joese’s behaviour is your constant apologising for it.”

“I’m s…okay. I just want to say, for the record, we’re not all like that. Honestly.”

“That’s self-evident, Mister Kine.”

“Is there really nowhere else I could sleep?”

“Not without inconveniencing even more people. Do you have an objection to my company?”

“Of course not. I was just thinking you need a break from me. That’s all.”

“I’m capable of judging my own limits. Allow me a few minutes to attend to my belongings and then you can come along at your leisure.” He stood. “Good night,” he said curtly to the four of them.

After Suaj left, Raelne smiled queasily at his three remaining companions. “Is difficult sometimes.”

Sernan gave Raelne an embarrassed grin of sympathy. “Yes,” Maner said gravely. “Some friends are.”

“Good night. See you in the morning.”

There was another smaller lounge near the rear of the carriage which also had clear views of the passing scenery. Though it was night, all three of the planet’s moons had risen and the effect of the moonlight on the fresh snow was rather pretty. It didn’t snow in Kosat, where he’d lived since he was five. It did sometimes up on his grandparents’ place. Damn, he missed them, and everyone else.

He checked his watch. He’d given Suaj twenty minutes. Plenty of time. Sure enough, he found the man tucked in on the upper bunk, facing the wall. Raelne did his best not to disturb him. Whatever he claimed, Suaj definitely needed some time on his own, or at least with his own kind. Raelne could wring Harnol’s neck. He hadn’t been this annoying on the flight out, but then he hadn’t had the ability to get away with it. Hell, Raelne was already convicted of murder. They wouldn’t hold it against him if he killed Harnol for being a pain in the arse and an embarrassment to Tuzax, would they?

Though the sleeping accommodation was as luxurious as the rest of the carriage, and the bunk’s mattress thick and of good quality, sleeping side-on to the direction of travel wasn’t comfortable, and it took him a good while to fall asleep. He woke with his heart pounding out of his chest.

“What the hell was that?” What had woken him? A sound? The train jolted again and made an awful grinding noise. “Have we crashed?” The bunk light wouldn’t work.

“Possibly. Get dressed.”

“I can’t see.”

“Wait.”

He heard the man descend from the bunk with ease, as if the lights were on and he could see just fine. A click and snap, and then something landed on Raelne’s bunk. He was almost blinded as a bright light came on close to his face.

“Sorry.” Suaj moved the portable lamp. “I believe we may have derailed. Get dressed.”

“Really? Damn.”

He set the lamp on the fold-down table. Suaj was already stripping down to his underwear. Raelne stared. The man was covered in—

“Do you mind?”

“Uh. Sorry. Uh…I need…”

Suaj moved out of his way, clearly offended by his doltish behaviour. Raelne dressed as quickly as he could, very carefully not staring at the pure white fur covering Suaj’s body.

Before they could leave the cabin, a knock came at their door. Suaj answered and spoke to someone outside the room. Raelne waited. They probably weren’t in any imminent danger. There wasn’t enough shouting.

Suaj stepped back inside and closed the door. “The train struck an object on the track. We haven’t derailed but there’ll be some delay while they clear it. Most likely it was a group of rejers. It’s a common hazard. You may as well go back to sleep.”

“Right. Um, I’m sorry for staring before…”

“You’re not the first to do so, Mister Kine.”

The lights came on then, and Raelne could now see Suaj’s expression more clearly. He’d expected anger, but it was more…sadness. Perhaps resignation.

“People think you’re a freak, don’t they?”

“People are stupid, as you have seen ample evidence of today.”

“I don’t think it’s ugly. It’s, um…beautiful. You shouldn’t need to hide it.”

“Human fascination with my appearance is a distraction that I don’t want or need. I warned you about personal remarks.”

“Yes, you did. I apologise. I’ll, uh, turn away.”

“To what point? You’ve seen. Look to your heart’s content.”

Raelne flushed at the raw scorn in Suaj’s normally expressionless tone. “I’ve seen enough. I’ll use the bathroom, since I’m awake. Excuse me.”

He bolted out of the room and to the bathroom up the corridor. Idiot, idiot, idiot. He knew how sensitive Suaj was to people drawing attention to his differences, yet Raelne had made Harnol look like the diplomat on the team.

Suaj was so beautiful though.

He washed his face, used the toilet, dallied as long as he could. Suaj had left the lower bunk light on for him, and though he was facing away from Raelne, the stiffness of his back told him his companion wasn’t asleep.

“Please, Suaj. I need you to forgive me. I’m so sorry. It was ignorant and rude—”

“To admire me? To desire me?”

Raelne flushed hot. “I didn’t say I—”

“I said, you’re not the first. There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not. I… You’re correct. I perhaps need a break. This translation is very tiring for me.”

“What can I do to make it easier? If you’d like me to work with someone else—Werse, maybe?”

“And take on your Mister Joese? I don’t think so, Mister Kine.”

“Damn it, my name’s Raelne. Everyone calls you by your given name. I’m not your enemy. You turn every conversation into a battle. I just want to…to…to be a friend, damn you!”

“This is how you convince me?”

Raelne gritted his teeth. “No. I can’t drop my mental shield, but if I could, you’d see I bear you no ill will. I like you. I admire your ability and your patience. I’m very grateful for your tolerating Harnol and me, and the way you’ve tried to ease my way. Right from the start, I felt you’ve done your best and since you hate me so much, that makes it even more admirable.”

Suaj said nothing. Raelne felt like a prize fool. “I’m sorry.”

Suaj rolled over, and gave Raelne the full force of his extraordinary eyes. “Mister Kine…Raelne. I appreciate your admiration. However, you’re overlooking the fact that this…intimacy is artificial. We’ve been thrown together by circumstance, and because your range of contacts is necessarily limited, you’re trying to convince yourself that this means we should be friends. Much as Mister Joese is determined to ignore the fact that Werse loathes him.”

“Do you loathe me? You said you did.”

“My feelings are immaterial. What I’m trying to point out is that I’m unsuitable for the role into which you’ve cast me. I don’t make friends easily, nor wish to. I’m not someone who wishes confidences, or gives them. My patience with you is something that has been ordered. It doesn’t come naturally.”

“I see. I’m making an idiot of myself. Thank you for being honest. I won’t impose on your kindness any more.”

“For what it’s worth, you aren’t as much of a trial as your colleague would be.”

Raelne laughed dryly. “Why does that not thrill me as much as it might? You’re right. I just want not to be the stranger.”

“Unavoidable, I’m afraid. You aren’t here by choice, and you weren’t invited. Go to sleep.”
“And we won’t talk about this again either.”

“No. Good night.”

Bugger. Six months until he could get out of this situation. Longer if he didn’t manage to avoid strangling Harnol, or being thrown off the project by an enraged Suaj. If he could survive this train journey, he’d be doing extremely well.