<I have often thought my elders were more fortunate than they realized… in many ways, Senior Singer,> Golden Voice replied so demurely that even many of those she had shocked most deeply bleeked with laughter.
<Perhaps they are, and perhaps they are not,> Wind of Memory said much more seriously. <Yet I do not jest when I say that what you have proposed to us this day may be even more important—or dangerous—to the People than anything Sings Truly herself ever proposed. It is certainly the most important thing anyone has suggested since Sings Truly, and I suppose I am pleased and proud that you have brought it to the clan from whence she and Climbs Quickly sprang.>
<Even if Golden Voice is correct,> Crooked Tail, another of the elders, put in, <it need not mean that we overset all the old ways in a single day, Senior Singer. If we follow her suggestion, surely we would send only a small number of people to Dances on Cloud’s other world to begin with. No more than a hand or two, at most.>
<Do not deceive yourself, Crooked Tail,> Wind of Memory replied. <Yes, we would start with only a very few People. At least one memory singer must go, since—> she darted a humorous glance at Golden Voice <—I have no intention of attempting to convince a mated female, with kittens of her own, who has also bonded to a human, to do what all of Sun Leaf Clan’s elders could not convince an untried kitten to do so many turnings ago! And there must be hunters and scouts… three hands, at least, I would say. But it is not the numbers that matter in this—not truly. What matters is the change. I would not think it would come immediately, for I would still advise moving with caution, yet such a move would require the People to show our true cleverness to the humans. And that will change the entire relationship between all humans and all People, everywhere, forever.>
<You speak truly, Senior Singer,> Golden Voice agreed. <Yet I will add this. For all that Sings Truly counseled caution, she always knew the day must come when the People took this step. I think she might still agree with you that we must not move with reckless haste… but I also think she would be astonished that it has taken us this long to come this far.>
<So what, precisely, do you recommend, sister-of-choice?> Wind of Memory asked in a mind voice from which all hostility had faded.
<It is customary for a mother of the People who has bonded to a human to foster her kittens with her clan,> Golden Voice replied. <I would not do that. Rather, Laughs Brightly and I will take them to Dances on Clouds’ other world with us. And when we do, as Wind of Memory has suggested, we will take others with us to help teach and raise them… and to open a new door to the humans.>
<It is a bold plan… and a risky one,> Bark Master said slowly. <It will not be decided here and now, sister-of-choice, and it does not concern only our clan. We must consult with the other clans and their elders.>
<I understand. But I also understand that, as they have so often, the other clans will follow the lead of Bright Water. It was this clan which opened the first door; if it chooses to open the next, it will not be alone in that decision long.>
<Perhaps not,> Bark Master conceded, <yet it would be discourteous, as well as dangerous, to move in this without so much as seeking their opinions. It will take some days, at least two or three hands of them.>
<Which will be amply soon,> Golden Voice told him. <Dances on Clouds will not leave for considerably longer than that. There will be time for much discussion.>
<Indeed,> Laughs Brightly put in, his pride in his mate burning bright in his mind glow as he tucked an arm about her. <But whatever the decision, Golden Voice and I, and our kittens, will leave with Dances on Clouds.> There was not as much shock or surprise at hearing such an announcement from a scout as there might have been in other clans. This was Bright Water Clan, after all… and its elders knew Laughs Brightly of old.
<We understand that, Laughs Brightly,> Wind of Memory told him now, her mind voice and mind glow rich with resigned laughter, <but at least allow us the illusion that the vote of all the rest of the People in the world matters just a bit!>
<Oh, of course, Senior Singer!> Laughs Brightly assured her with a bleek of amusement. <It would never do for us to be impolite, after all, now would it?>
Honor Harrington looked up from her book viewer as the oldest ’cat door on Sphinx opened. Her great-great-great-etc.-grandmother Stephanie and Lionheart had first used that door hundreds of T-years before, and she smiled as the two latest treecats to use it flowed through it.
“Hi, Stinker!” she said, setting down her mug of cocoa. “Have a nice visit with the folks?”
“Bleek!” Nimitz agreed, flowing across the floor to her with an air of almost unbearable complacency. He looked like someone who had just discovered he owned an entire celery patch of his own, Honor thought, and shook her head with a grin.
“He really can be sort of full of himself, can’t he?” she asked the smaller, dappled treecat who had accompanied him, and Samantha bleeked an agreement of her own. She crossed to the couch and hopped lightly up on it to peer down into the basket at Honor’s side. Four adorable balls of fluffy fur slept deeply in it—one of them snoring faintly—and Samantha bleeked again, softer and more gently, and reached out a wiry, true-hand to stroke one of her children tenderly.
“I promised to keep an eye on them,” Honor told her, reaching out to caress Samantha’s ears in turn, and Nimitz’s mate turned to gaze up at her with brilliant green eyes. For a moment they looked so serious and thoughtful Honor blinked in surprise, but then Samantha seemed to shake herself. She turned away from her sleeping children and flowed into Honor’s lap, curling herself into a neat circle, and Nimitz leapt up beside his mate and his person.
Samantha buried her nose against Honor and gave a huge sigh, then closed her eyes and began to buzz a slow, deep purr as Honor’s long fingers stroked her fluffy coat. Within less than five minutes, the purr had faded into slow, deep breathing, and Honor gazed down at the utterly relaxed, silken warmth so trustingly asleep in her lap. Then she looked at Nimitz, curled neatly beside her on the couch, and shook her head.
“Look at her!” she said softly, and chuckled. “Sleepy as she is, you’d think she’d been out changing the world or something!”
“Bleek!” Nimitz agreed, and then rested his own chin on his person’s thigh beside Samantha’s, and the soft buzz of his purr rose over his mate’s slow breathing as Honor chuckled again and laid her hand on his head.
From the Highlands
by Eric Flint
The First Day
Helen
Helen used the effort of digging at the wall to control her terror. She thought of it as a variation of Master Tye’s training: turn weakness into strength. Fear drove her, but she shaped it to steady her aching arms instead of letting it loosen her bowels.