Finally he called to Terab, "He's offering us refuge in that hive, though I don't know on what authority. I don't think he understands that we've been spotted—but he does connect the flyer with the troopers who destroyed his hive."
"Maybe he thinks the bigger hive is stronger!"
"Maybe," said Jindigar. "Well, do we go?"
"What if the hive attacks us?" asked Viradel.
Krinata answered, "Chinchee understands that the troopers are our enemies. Maybe he can make this hive understand that too. Terab, it's got to be your decision."
Viradel craned her neck to look around her sled at Krinata. Terab said, "Try it."
Krinata curved her course to follow where Chinchee had pulled Jindigar's sled. Success depended on two things: the hive's friendliness and the flyer's either missing them entirely or blaming the recording of sleds on equipment failure when their search of the plain turned up no sleds. With the Inverted triad they could have messed up that recording, and that wouldn't have been attacking the world's biosphere, making it lash back at them.
Resolutely she focused her mind on the hive ahead of them. Chinchee had run confidently up to the tunnel entrance, and Jindigar was only a few paces behind him.
SIX
Hive Refuge
As each of the refugees arrived they straggled to halt the sleds in a semicircle behind Chinchee, who was half swallowed by the dark shadow of the tunnel entry. Moonlight glanced off something within—a door?—and the pale skin of a native. Chinchee was dancing about, gesticulating with both arms and legs, howling and clicking at the dark entry.
Jindigar hunkered down, motioning the others to join him. "To sit is less threatening," he advised, adding, "I think I understand now. Chinchee is an interhive herald, a news bringer, an itinerant diplomat. He doesn't belong to this hive—or any hive—but to the community of hives." Delighted, he added, "This is a very sophisticated society!"
Frey observed, "Perhaps it was fortunate you found him."
"If they turn us away," grumbled Viradel, "you won't say so. We'll a'lost our chance to get away."
"They're closing the door!" exclaimed Krinata, jumping up, one arm raised, poised to dash ahead and plead.
But Chinchee danced back toward them, unmistakable joy in his steps, though one hand held his wounded side, and as he got closer, she could see that he was panting heavily. He dropped down beside Jindigar and began petting the Dushau, crooning much as Jindigar had reassured him when they'd first met.
Krinata suppressed a semihysterical laugh and watched as Jindigar embraced the scrawny native, then pushed him away and hesitantly made sounds. Frey leaned closer, attentive. The three seemed to recede from the presence of the group, enclosed in a bubble of intense privacy.
In a few moments Jindigar stood and announced, "I think he says they're considering the problem. Chinchee told them we're– enemies of their enemy. They heard the overflight and know the threat. Chinchee is optimistic, even confident."
Krinata settled to wait and was immediately buried under two furry piols and two young Cassrians who didn't know how hard their shells felt. She endured, trying to comfort them, as she watched Jindigar concentrating on the hive, frequently shaking his head as if to dismiss a phantasm.
"What is it?" asked Frey eventually.
"Nothing," replied Jindigar as Krinata felt the solid stone wall image intensify, protecting the duad, "but did you notice that?"
Frey followed his elder's gesture to the top of the hive. In the glancing rays of the moon, smoke was visible rising from short chimneys—so the natives used fire. Then Krinata saw the rustlebird hive hung from a frame at the top of the dome. Jindigar pulled Frey to his feet, muttering as he pointed out the arc of bare ground surrounding the hive. Frey scooped up a handful of dirt. "I don't believe it! Domesticated rustlebirds?"
"Not domesticated—interhive symbiosis. They use the birds for hunting! This is certainly new!" They studied the situation for a while, then questioned Chinchee, who seemed proud to be a host returning an obligation. Despite his demonstrative body language, Chinchee had a mature dignity. On reflection Krinata decided the natives were nothing like the Rashions Jindigar had compared them to. They were far more intelligent. But what would they be like, kidnapped and forced to live as individuals?
She knew the debilitating effects loss of culture had on social beings. Such individuals could be easily brainwashed, easily enslaved. Raichmat's Oliat had probably been right about this world—any Duke who got his hands on it would have used these natives or exterminated them.
Her sour cynicism was interrupted by the opening of the door to the tunnel. A delegation emerged, and she got her first look at the other hive species. Alive, the small, cara-paced ones did resemble miniature Cassrians. They walked on two limbs, using the other two as arms, though then-hands weren't as dextrous as a Cassrian's. They moved in quick bursts and then froze to observe.
The medium-size furred ones went on all fours, but as they straightened, she saw each forearm branched into a hand, carried curled under the body, and a paw with retractable claws. As these swarmed from the mouth of the. hive she detected a well-drilled order among them and was unsurprised to see that they all held spears and hatchets in their hands.
Among a complement of the white-skins like Chinchee she saw a new species. Broad but not as tall as the whites, these seemed to be clothed in thin plates, glittering like fish scales but loose like feathers, yet rustling as they moved. Perhaps they were evolved from the rustlebirds?
They seemed to be approaching in full ceremony, so she climbed to her feet as Chinchee rushed out to do push-ups on the ground before the rustlebirdmen.
Jindigar promptly took two running steps and fell down to do push-ups beside Chinchee. Frey motioned everyone else to do the same in place. You're kidding! thought Krinata, but she followed suit as the others did. Her form was rotten and did not improve when the children, intimidated by the aliens, climbed onto her back. When the ceremony was over, Shorwh offered to take one of his brothers, but the child clung-to Krinata. So she hefted him onto her shoulder and hoped this wouldn't take long.
It didn't. After a brief exchange the tallest rustlebirdman surveyed their trail-weary group and then came right to Krinata. Her breath caught in her throat until she realized that he was after the children. Then her fatigue vanished in a burst of protectiveness.
Her body must have shown it, for the rustleman stopped at a distance and said something. Chinchee came forward and called to the children in Cassrian whistleclicks. The older of the two children held out his arms to the native herald, and Shorwh said, "No!" and whistled piercingly.
Frey came over and hunkered down beside Shorwh. "Don't be afraid. They're friendly—and curious."
With Shorwh calmed down, Krinata let the youngster go to Chinchee, who presented him to the rustleman. After holding him and petting him, the rustleman seemed puzzled—as if an expectation were not fulfilled. He was showing a tinge of hostility when Jindigar made broad semaphoring motions and danced about, humming. Chinchee repeated that with more grace and style, adding polychromatic tones to the song.
After some negotiation the rustleman handed Jindigar the child and turned to lead them inside. Chinchee hooted and danced around proudly, then sat down suddenly, one hand on his side. Jindigar stooped to examine him and then had the Lehiroh help the native back onto the top of a sled.
Krinata didn't think the sleds would fit through the door without unloading the top course of crates. But the Lehiroh examined the door and approved it while the furred ones spread out behind them to herd them into the hive.
One at a time, Frey pulling the lead sled, they squeezed into the tunnel, which was much larger inside where the floor dropped a step. A few sled lengths into darkness Frey called sharply, "Halt!"