"What? Krinata? I mean, Jindigar?' Storm handed the splints to one of the Dushau building the litter and came to kneel beside Krinata. "You're alive? From the way Krinata was—"
"//Please listen.//" Jindigar drew on all his officers to describe the Native hive's condition and stance. He tried to make it a crisp, professional report despite the fatigue overtaking them all. Llistyien was unable to stand, and Dar was leaning against her Outrider, one hand over the bloody lump on the side of her head.
"//Have you got all that?//" finished Jindigar.
The human and Lehiroh nodded simultaneously, then Storm commanded cryptically, "Cy, go get him. Jindigar, I think there's more to this hive turning up here than just the hive-bleeders chasing them."
Prompted by the Oliat's weariness, Krinata raised one hand to forestall Storm's enthusiasm. Jindigar noted, as the hand came into her field of vision, that the fingers were shaking. Storm noted it, too, and apologized. "I wouldn't hold you here except that it's very important."
Just then a door clattered. Krinata's hearing picked up softly padding bare feet on wooden stairs. With supreme effort Krinata turned and saw one of the stark-white, incredibly tall humanoid Natives coming toward them. The scarred ears on top of his skull seemed peculiarly familiar. His crossed harnesses—the only clothing he wore—marked him as a Herald. One arm was in a sling, but he carried a hivebinder on his other shoulder—something the Oliat knew was very unusual.
As he came out of the shadow of the wall, Krinata and the Oliat recognized him at the same time. "//Chinchee!//"
This was the Herald they had found wounded and dying in a Native hive smashed by the Imperial troops who were searching for them. Nursed back to health, he had refused to leave them. When more Imperial troops had been closing in on Jindigar's party, Chinchee had led them to refuge inside another Native hive. The Imperials had located them, anyway, and had attacked the hive. In the ensuing action many had died, and the hive, sorely wounded, had expelled Jindigar's party and two other offworld prisoners, Darllanyu and Cyrus.
Later Chinchee and his stray hivebinder had been taken prisoner by Imperial troops, who also attacked the colony and captured Jindigar, Krinata, and many other settlers. When all the hives of the plain had attacked the troopers, Chinchee had helped the colonists form the psychic union that created the image of the hive-dome over the settlement and convinced the massed hives of Phanphihy that the settlement—and the Imperials—were just another hive.
Now the Herald had brought them some new neighbors. Dangerous neighbors.
At last recognizing Krinata, Chinchee loosed a barrage of Cassrian whistles and clicks. Through the Native's accent and Krinata's human hearing Jindigar barely distinguished the morphemes for friend and welcome.
But the Cassrian female medic set aside her bandages and came toward them excitedly. "Was he only parroting like an animal, or did he really expect us to believe that was a peaceful and friendly approach?"
Her voice was well schooled to the single-toned interspecies language, so Jindigar had no trouble understanding her, but there was no time to explain the Herald's talent and function. //Llistyien—//
//I'll try,// replied his Emulator.
/ft was unreasonable to ask such precision work of her after —""all she'd been through. //I'll help,// Jindigar offered, and worked with her to establish Emulation of Herald, Cassrian, and human, while at the same time calling the Receptor to focus. Jindigar's own work was sloppy. Zannesu's shock was wearing off, the pain and horror of his loss sinking in. Darllanyu was in a daze. Even Venlagar could barely manage to grip the linkages as Jindigar set them. But gradually the meaning of what Krinata was witnessing came through.
"Friend!" piped Chinchee repeatedly. "Scared. Need help." And each time he repeated it he added several whistled versions of Jindigar's name.
While he went on ever more urgently the others argued the meaning of his message, occasionally pleading with Krinata to say something.
Finally Jindigar opened to his Outreach and, hampered by inflexible human articulation, sang out in the Native's language, "//Jindigar can hear you. Remember Oliat?//"
Krinata coughed at what those few phrases did to her throat while all the rest stared at her, amazed. Chinchee stopped in mid-phrase, dashed up to Krinata, threw himself down prone in front of her, and, with the hivebinder scurrying onto his back, did three push-ups. Everyone who had not been with them on the trek across the continent from the desert where Ephemeral Truth had crashed, laughed. But those who had been there when Chinchee led them to the hive refuge lined up to do push-ups back at Chinchee.
//Jindigar, I don't think I can do it.//
//Relax, Krinata. I doubt Chinchee expects you to.//
But the Native was obviously delighted with the others' response. As he rose to his feet he warbled, "Oh, Great Jindigar, your hive will prosper, your memory will tunnel through eternity. Your generosity will be recorded for all time."
"What did he say?" asked someone.
"Wait," admonished one of the Dushau. "Let the Oliat question him."
Storm added, "Somebody go get Terab. She's probably in the field, trying to prevent an all-out attack on the Natives."
Peripherally the Oliat knew that was exactly what Terab was doing. And she was succeeding. Apparently people had finally begun to grasp that little could be gained on this planet by frontal assault. Or perhaps the Imperial troopers who had experienced the wrath of the hivebinders were unwilling to stir that up again. "//Tell her,//" called the Oliat, "//that our attack on the hive-bleeders has made the Natives less hostile toward us.//"
One of the Lehiroh women with burned hands turned to go, saying, "I heard your report. I'll tell her."
Chinchee carolled, "Did I hear a familiar name? The name of Greatfursixarms?"
"//You are the most talented of all Heralds, Chinchee. The name of Terab is far greater than Jindigar's, for she speaks for this hive, not Jindigar, and not the Oliat. She will decide if this new hive can stay.//"
"Newhiveswarm cannot leave. Cannot move again. Greatfursixarms must know. Swarmed at startime, and settled new land on the plain. Built hive-dome, began new life." Chinchee*S voice took on the cadence of a bard reciting a long series of great historical events, for Heralds were also the newsbringers of the hives. "Flood waters came, high and higher, swift as wind, shattered hive-dome. Survivors flee, across plain, into strange land of hive-bleeders. Chinchee come, fight hive-bleeders, lead newhiveswarm to safety with fellow hive-people. Newhiveswarm need friend, need help, need peace. Here, Chinchee, Jindigar, made peace. Here, newhiveswarm find peace we made here."
All so logical!
"//Why did the newhiveswarm smash into our hive and hurt and destroy?//"
Chinchee folded to the ground, his knees sticking out at an angle, his head drooping. Through Llistyien Emulation the Oliat knew this was shame. His voice was tremulous as he told them, "Hive-mind, stripped of hive, so many dead to plainwater, so many dead to hive-bleeders, so many dead to newlifemaking, younghivemind broken, hurting, terrified, sensed throb of newlifemaking, sensed safe goodplace. Chinchee is Herald, not of younghivemind—not of hive. Herald cannot command hive."
He was trying to keep his story simple, but even so, Jindigar knew they weren't getting all the nuances. One thing was clear. The worldcircle itself had attracted the swarming hive irresistibly. The Oliat's projection of Renewal energies into the circle had probably triggered the swarm's headlong dash toward what they perceived as the oasis of safety the Herald had promised them. And they had been too mad with the need to settle again in time for new births to heed Chinchee's objections.