Dimity reached out a hand, and scratched the kzin at the base of his ears. Vaemar permitted himself to purr.
“And if we are both genii, we are both misfits,” he went on. “I have mixed with humans too long to be a kzintosh of the Patriarchy, even though I bear this.” He tapped the red fur on his chest. “And you…”
“I should be teaching,” said Dimity. “When I was a professor I was not a good teacher, but I think I communicate better now. I should have the ordinary domestic life that should be any human's lot: my own people, my own mate and children. Instead…”
“I know that by human standards you are beautiful,” said Vaemar. “Even I can see that. Some have said you could have any mate you wanted. If he is not afraid of your mind.”
“What I want now,” said Dimity, “is to know that for the moment I may stay here if I wish. I need a refuge.”
Vaemar sprayed a very little—a couple of drops—of urine on the fabric of her trouser leg. It reinforced his mark for all kzinti to know.
“Of course,” he said. “You are my guest and chess partner as long as you wish. But you care to come to Little Southland.”
“Yes, I also need to run.”
“From what?”
“Everything.
“T.S. Eliot?” said Vaemar.
“Do not kzinti feel like that sometimes?”
“When we do, we usually go out and kill things. Or fight each other. You are free to hunt in my preserves if you wish. I have human-size weapons you may use.”
“Thank you, Vaemar, but I do not think that would help. I am looking forward to Little Southland. What of Karan?”
“Like me, she must learn to live with humans. It is harder for her in some ways, perhaps, easier in others. She is not Riit. But I think she has bred true. Tabitha has intelligence! I thought that was the case when I realized her vocabulary was far beyond that of a normal female kitten of her age—or normal kzinrett of any age, to be sure—but now I know. She reads! She plans!”
“Are you glad, Vaemar? You and I know abnormal intelligence may be a curse as well as a blessing.”
Vaemar paced for a while before answering. His gait betrayed troubled thought.
“I am mortal,” said a voice on the screen. “You are Elfkind. It was a beautiful dream, nothing more.”
“Yes, I think I am glad,” Vaemar said at last. “It is a new thing, and like many new things I must accept it. She will not need to live her life as Karan did for so long, pretending to be a moron. You will help teach her, perhaps?”
“If I can. I would like to repay your hospitality to me somehow.”
“Are you sure you do not wish to kill something? My hunting preserve is free to you.”
“When do we leave?”
“Pack your equipment.”
“I already have.”
Chapter 6
“He took Dimity with him? Does Nils know?” Cumpston pinched his lip in a worried gesture.
“I didn't feel it was my business to tell him,” Arthur Guthlac said. “I don't want to go dancing into that minefield. It was a difficult decision to allow Dimity to go off to him at all. You can imagine the opposition and the arguments we faced. But once we decided we had no right to interfere with her we stuck by that decision. You can't put that mind in a cage. And there had to be a demonstration of trust in Vaemar. A big one…”
“No,” said Cumpston, “not our business to tell Nils. Especially not now, Arthur. We can't be their keepers. Anyway, you have other things to think about at the moment than raising taboo subjects.”
“And yet, I can't forget we're all bound together in funny ways.”
“How do you feel about the safety of those two misfits off together?”
“Let's not forget, those two misfits are probably the two most intelligent members on this planet of the two most deadly species known. I'm not overly concerned about them.”
“More deadly than Protectors?”
“That's something I hope we don't have to find out.”
“And Patrick Quickenden. He won't be too pleased.”
“That's not my problem. He's not a Wunderlander.”
“He loves Dimity too, you know.”
“I know. But we've got enough things to sort out without lovesick Crashlanders as well.”
“How do you feel, General?” Cumpston asked. “About the wedding, I mean.”
“As I should feel, I guess,” Guthlac told him. “Scared. Happy. I've never been married before. I want to be with Gale for the rest of my life. I want lots of children and I want them to live here on Wunderland. I'd like to get her farm back into proper production. Big John can help now he's been patched up. Earth's been too crowded and conformist for a long time. I don't particularly care if I never see it again. I'd like my children here. And none of those damned birth restrictions!”
“We had to have them. It's the only reason we've been able to keep the crowding down a bit.”
“Yes, but Earth hasn't kept the blandness down. Or the conformity and police control, more than a little of which I had a hand in making. As somebody said: 'I've seen some terrible things and a lot of them I caused.' But I see what I've been missing now. Wunderland is full of surprises still. Gale was the best of them.”
The red telephone on Guthlac's desk called him, then went into battle-secret mode, vibrations keyed to his personal implant. He listened to it, then stared at it with curious expression.
“That was Defense Headquarters,” he said at length. “A message has just come in on the hyperwave.”
“I gather it's something important. Are you going to tell me?” There was something like consternation behind Cumpston's voice as he stared at Guthlac. The brigadier had raised a hand and was wiping away tears.
“Oh, yes, it's important. And I'm going to tell you. Everybody will know soon enough anyway. McDonald and the Patriarch's negotiator have signed a treaty. Humanity and the Kzin Empire are at peace. Sixty-six years after first contact. It's a funny feeling.” He looked at the wetness of the tears on his hand with surprise.
“Peace. It's a funny word, Arthur.”
“It's going to take some getting used to… For the kzinti, too. I doubt they've ever been at peace with anyone before.”
“Some geneticists have speculated,” said Cumpston, “that the war has changed the kzinti. Killed off their most aggressive individuals, made the species less dangerous.”
“And some,” said Guthlac, “have speculated that the war has changed them by killing off their most stupid and reckless individuals, and made the species more cunning and more dangerous.”
“I know. What do we believe?”
“After sixty-six years of war, there must still be a place for optimism, for hope… for ideals. Otherwise we are indeed no better than animals.”
“Yes.” Cumpstom raised his eyes to the window. “Does the sky look different to you.”
They both stared at it for a long time. “Yes. Or I think it will soon. Do you believe death is not going to fall out of it again?”
“I'm trying to…” Cumpston said. “I hope our kzin friends here will be pleased… I mean our real kzin friends…Vaemar, Raargh, Karan… Big John.”
“You think of them first? You're a funny bird, Michael.”
“Vaemar's always been vulnerable to a certain stain: quisling, collaborator. Maybe that's gone now.”
“Vaemar was only a kitten when the kzin forces on Wunderland surrendered. A lost, orphaned kitten, when Rarrgh took him in. Should he have fought to the death against us with his milk-teeth? Anyway, even if there's now a cease-fire in space, I doubt it means the likes of Vaemar can come and go between here and the Patriarchy just like that.”