Enemy Papers

The truth of it.

All I had was a few memories and a lot of feelings. Perhaps, instead of hiding them, if I gave them freely to Zammis, some part of the truth of its parent and its line would come through.

I glanced up and saw another sunbeam reach the sea as a crack opened in the cloud cover. I raced to the top of the path to call down to Zammis, but, far below me, I saw the kid standing at the edge of the cliff, looking over the sea at the light from above. Its arms were outstretched. The opening in the cloud cover closed, Zammis lowered its arms, and went into the cave.

"Uncle, why does the line of Jeriba have only five names? You say that human lines have many names."

I put down my sewing and nodded. "The five names of the Jeriba line are things to which their bearers must add deeds. The deeds are important—not the names."

"Gothig is Shigan’s parent as Shigan is my parent."

"Of course. You know that from your recitations."

Zammis frowned. "Then I must name my child Ty when I become a parent?"

"Yes. And Ty must name its child Haesni. Do you see something wrong with that?"

"I would like to name my child Davidge, after you."

I smiled and shook my head. "The Ty name has been served by great bankers, merchants, inventors, and—well, you know your recitation. The name Davidge hasn’t been served by much. Think of what Ty would miss by not being Ty."

Zammis thought a while, then nodded. "Uncle, do you think Gothig is alive?"

"As far as I know."

"What is Gothig like?"

I thought back to Jerry talking about its parent, Gothig. "It taught music, and is very strong. Jerry… Shigan said that its parent could bend metal bars with its fingers. Gothig is also very dignified. I imagine that right now Gothig is also very sad. Gothig must think that the line of Jeriba has ended."

Zammis frowned and its yellow brow furrowed. "Uncle, we must make it to Draco. We must tell Gothig the line continues."

"We will."

"How do you know we will?"

"I made a promise to your parent, Zammis. I promised to teach you line and book and to stand with you before the Jeriba archives and see you into adulthood."

"How will you keep this promise, Uncle?"

"I don’t know. The Talman tells me to do the best I can and leave the rest to the event stream of the universe."

"But how, Uncle?"

I lowered my sewing to my lap and looked at Zammis. "In the spring we’re going to see where those birds were going. Maybe that’s how." I shrugged and returned to my sewing. "Maybe not. How it turns out isn’t up to us."

"Faith again, Uncle?"

"Reality, Zammis. Genuine, washable, colorfast, one hundred percent, guaranteed non-shrinkable reality, and that’s a fact."

Spring. The winter’s ice began thinning, and boots, tent, and packs were ready. We were putting the finishing touches on our new insulated suits. As Jerry had given The Talman to me to learn, the golden cube now hung around Zammis’s neck. The Drac would drop the tiny golden book from the cube and study it for hours at a time.

"Uncle?"

"What?"

"Why do Dracs speak and write in one language and the humans in another?"

I laughed. "Zammis, the humans speak and write in many languages. English is just one of them."

"How do the humans speak among themselves?"

I shrugged. "They don’t always; when they do, they use interpreters—people who can speak both languages."

"You and I speak both English and Drac; does that make us interpreters?"

"I suppose we could be, if you could ever find a human and a Drac who want to talk to each other. Remember, there’s a war going on."

"How will the war stop if they do not talk?"

"Good question. Maybe they’ll run out of ammunition or bodies to kill. I suppose they will talk, eventually."

Zammis smiled. "I think I would like to be an interpreter and help end the war." The Drac put its sewing aside and stretched out on its new mattress. Zammis had outgrown even its old mattress, which it now used for a pillow. "Uncle, do you think that we will find anybody beyond the scrub forest?"

"I hope so. If we don’t, it’ll be one hell of a long hike for nothing."

"If we find someone, will you go with me to Draco?"

"I promised your parent that I would."

"After I make my recitation, what will you do?"

I stared at the fire, a question I never asked myself smoking on the table. "I don’t know." I shrugged. "The war might keep us from getting to Draco for a long time."

"After that, what?"

"I suppose I’ll stay in the service."

Zammis propped itself up on an elbow. "Go back to being a fighter pilot?"

"Sure. That’s about all I know how to do."

"And kill Dracs?"

I put my own sewing down and studied the Drac. Things had changed since Jerry and I had slugged it out—more things than I had realized. I shook my head. "No. I probably won’t be a pilot—not a service one. Maybe I can land a job flying commercial ships." I shrugged. "Maybe the service won’t give me any choice."

Zammis sat up, was still for a moment; then it stood, walked over to my mattress, and knelt before me on the sand. "Uncle, I don’t want to leave you."

"Don’t be silly. You’ll have your own kind around you. Your grandparent, Gothig, Shigan’s siblings, their children—you’ll forget all about me."

"Will you forget about me?"

I looked into those yellow eyes, then reached out my hand and touched Zammis’s cheek. "No, I won’t forget about you. But, remember this, Zammis: you’re a Drac and I’m a human, and that’s how this part of the universe is divided."

Zammis took my hand from his cheek, spread the fingers and studied them. "Whatever happens, Uncle, I will never forget you."

The ice was gone, and the Drac and I stood in the wind-blown drizzle, packs on our backs, before the grave. Zammis was as tall as I was, which made it a little taller than Jerry. To my relief, the boots fit. Zammis hefted its pack up higher on its shoulders, then turned from the grave and looked out at the sea. I followed Zammis’s glance and watched the rollers steam in and smash on the rocks. I looked at the Drac. "What are you thinking?"

Zammis looked down, then turned toward me. "Uncle, I didn’t think of it before, but… I will miss this place."

I burst out with a laugh. "Nonsense! This place?" I slapped the Drac on the shoulder. "Why would you miss this place?"

Zammis looked back out to sea. "I have learned many things here. You have taught me many things here, Uncle. My life happened here."

"Only the beginning, Zammis. You have a life ahead of you." I nodded my head at the grave. "Say goodbye."

Zammis turned toward the grave, stood over it, then knelt to one side and began removing the rocks. After a few moments, it had exposed the hand of a skeleton with three fingers. Zammis nodded, then wept. "I am sorry. Uncle, but I had to do that. This has been nothing but a pile of rocks to me. Now it is more." Zammis replaced the rocks, then stood.

I cocked my head toward the scrub forest. "Go on ahead. I’ll catch up in a minute."

"Yes, Uncle."

Zammis moved off toward the naked trees, and I looked down at the grave. "What do you think of Zammis, Jerry? It’s bigger than you were. I guess snake agrees with the kid." I squatted next to the grave, picked up a small rock, and added it to the pile. "I guess this is it. We’re either going to make it to Draco, or die trying." I stood and looked at the sea. "Yeah, I guess I learned a few things here. I’ll miss it, in a way." I turned back to the grave and hefted my pack up. "Ehdevva sahn, Jeriba Shigan. So long, Jerry."