“Are you smart?” one asked.
“Are you grown?” asked another.
Then a third whispered some papio words, and others barred their incisors, someone saying, “Quiet, you. Quiet.”
Then the Archon was surrounded by the papio, and that conversation ended, big golden eyes turned on him and that relentless, unnerving smile.
“List,” several of the papio said.
At the bottom of the hill, the Archon stopped suddenly and turned.
“Come here,” he said. Then he waved, attempting the same words in their language.
His bodyguards were flustered. One whispered some little warning, and the Archon laughed, giving the air a dismissive sweep of the hand.
The papio formed a half-circle above them.
“I have something to tell you,” List began. “Something important, something you need to tell all others.”
The smallest papio was larger than any human male. Men and women were the same size. Those strong mouths and thick arms were remarkable. Every face was decorated with elaborate, beautiful tattoos. Guns and knives were carried in plain view. Every head had the same bright pink hair, and the men often sported dense blood-colored beards while the women fancied soft beards hiding shyly under their chins. One woman made a low growling sound before wrapping her mouth around the words, “Talk to us.”
“These two children are marvels,” said the Archon. “And you might remind yourselves that they’re only just beginning to grow into men. Think what they’ll mean to my species, to humanity. Which is why on this momentous day, I want to graciously offer the papio some enlightened advice.”
The woman broke into a wild, quick laugh, asking scornfully, “What advice?”
“Take these boys from me,” the Archon said. “You should do that now. Immediately, no hesitations.”
The world fell silent, every face watching him.
“Kill me,” he said. “Murder me and steal these two treasures. That brings war, I’m sure. Assassinate the political leader of humanity, and you have to expect outrage and a terrible long fight. But if you can hold onto these warriors, and if you use them effectively in the future, your descendants will celebrate your bravery and vision. That’s my advice for the papio species. Start one awful war today and win the world. Or do nothing, let us walk away, and the world is lost.”
The hair on the woman’s scalp lifted. “Why make such stupid noise?” she asked.
“Because I know you,” the Archon replied. “This is a proven fact: creatures that live on solid ground are slow, unimaginative thinkers. Climbers adapt and change every moment of our lives. It’s a great lesson, knowing we can’t trust a branch to be here tomorrow. Meanwhile you live as you always have, and every tomorrow is the same as yesterday, and it’s impossible for you to believe that anything changes or that there is any better existence for your dusty kind.”
The papio stared at him, teeth bared, eyes blazing inside those deep sockets.
Then the tree-walker laughed and swept the air with his hand before he turned and walked away. The doctor was far ahead. The other humans followed the Archon. Diamond and King followed. They walked between the tents and past the dead corona. The chase had lasted for a long while. Scales had been yanked away from the carcass. Ugly holes were hacked from the flesh beneath. But the men who had done that quick work had already vanished, and nobody seemed curious where.
Master Nissim walked past Diamond, touching the boy’s head. He looked at him sadly before calling ahead. “Is this why you wanted to come here?” he asked the Archon. “So you could parade what you have in front the papio?”
The Archon stopped and turned.
“Oh, I have nothing,” he said. “The boys are blessings from the Creators, and they belong to all of us.”
Nobody spoke.
The narrow face was satisfied, smug. “I know the full story,” the Archon continued. “Four gifts were inside that ancient corona. Two of them are ours now, and two more remain missing. But big as it is, this world doesn’t hide anything for very long.”
“And you want to capture the others,” the Master said.
“I want what’s best for our species.”
“Which is what?”
But the Archon didn’t respond. He shook his head and turned, spending a long moment admiring the view from this rough little valley: the vastness of air and the hanging forest and the coronas’ scalding realm and that thin yellowing light of a sun that no human had ever truly seen.
The doctor hurried up the gangway, happy to vanish.
The crippled man stood at the bottom, carried by his last good leg. Holding a long rifle, he glared at Master Nissim, lifting the barrel and lowering it again while cursing quietly.
“Have you seen anyone else?” the Archon asked.
“A couple of the slayer’s gang,” the man reported. “Gawking at the ship, a little too curious for my mood, so I sent them on their way.”
“Good.”
Father and Mother dropped to their knees, and Mother pressed her thumb against her son’s wet cheek.
She said, “Honey.”
Diamond wasn’t sure when his tears started flowing.
“There has to be another way,” she said.
Then Father touched Diamond on the shoulder, saying, “About our plan.”
Mother looked at Father.
“King is a complication,” Father said. “I might have guessed something like this . . . but I couldn’t . . . ”
His voice faded away.
“You have a plan?” Mother asked.
“Something risky,” Father said. “And that was before we knew about the other boy.”
She looked at both of them, and then she looked at the ground, saying, “You have to save our son.”
“I know, and I will.”
Diamond’s face was wet and sore, and his body shook, and looking up the gangway, he was nothing but weak. Too exhausted to move, much less climb any distance, he found hope. Maybe he was finally sick. Too much had happened too quickly, and his strength was gone, and the often-promised illness was going to push him into a scorching fever, destroying the powers that he never wanted in the first place.
Was that something to wish for?
The Archon whispered to the crippled man and then started up the gangway, looking back just once.
“King,” he called out.
Diamond’s brother hurried to catch the Archon, walking beside the human and out of sight.
Again, the long gun lifted.
“Hugs and kisses,” the man said. “Hurry up.”
Mother sobbed, grabbing hold of her son, squeezing until her joints cracked. Father put his arms around both of them, leaving his eyes open. He looked up at the airship until the man again said, “Hurry up.”
“We have to go,” Father told Mother.
His parents walked away. Diamond was dreadfully weak, but he didn’t collapse. Another bodyguard came close and motioned for him to follow, and Diamond took one little step and a long step. Then he stopped and turned, looking at Elata and Seldom.
“Thank you,” he told them.
Surprised, Seldom asked, “For what?”
“For buying me that food,” he said. “And everything else.”
The children nodded, faces dipping.
Elata said, “Good bye.”
“Yeah,” said Seldom, sniffing. “Bye.”
Diamond walked up to the Master. “And thank you, sir,” he said.
“I wish this had gone better,” Nissim said.
The boy nodded in agreement, and the bodyguard gave him a nudge.
Reaching under his shirt, Diamond pulled out the knife and sheath, handing them to the Master. “These are yours. I don’t need them anymore.”