“Yeah, and given Scott a chance to tell us to take this poor fellow to the clinic in Twin Forks, instead,” Jessica added.
But MacDallan made no such suggestion. Instead, the redhaired doctor asked Anders and Jessica for any details they could give and viewed images of his future patient over the uni-link.
“I’ll have a treatment room ready,” he promised. “Call again when you’re about fifteen minutes out.”
“We will,” Anders promised. “And thanks for helping out on such short notice.”
When Anders disconnected, he helped Jessica clear a spot in the rear seat of the air car and settle in the wounded treecat.
Then he said, “I think we should bring those bodies along. I noticed you had some tarps in the trunk.”
“Mom and I always carry some in case we need to wrap a root ball or something,” Jessica said. “I’ve got boxes, too. Do you think the other treecats will mind?”
“I don’t see anyone making funeral arrangements,” Anders said brutally. “Let’s do this like last time, let Valiant see what we’re doing. If he protests or the other treecat wakes up and gets upset, then we stop and settle for images. Otherwise, we bring the bodies, too. We’ll take the same precautions as last time, handle the bodies as little as possible, and disinfect afterwards.”
Jessica nodded and, when Valiant showed no signs of being upset, they carried out their grisly task as quickly as possible.
“I suppose we could have buried these like we did the other one,” Anderson said, “but I’m edgy about all of this.”
“You, too?” Jessica said. “I thought Valiant’s worry over the other ’cat was making me nervy.”
“It’s not just you,” Anders assured her. “It can’t be a coincidence that we’ve found four dead and one injured treecat all in the same region. What if something’s hunting them—some predator displaced by the fire, maybe? I’d like to see if Scott can make a guess at what got them. Then maybe the SFS can do something.”
“Good idea,” Jessica agreed, tucking a tarp to secure the load packed in the air car’s trunk. “We’ll call Scott on the way and tell him what to expect. Now we’d better fly.
* * *
Keen Eyes realized the pain had gone away. He still felt very weak, but it was a delicious sort of weakness. He felt cared for, protected, relaxed in a manner he hadn’t felt for a long time—certainly not since the fires destroyed his clan’s home range, perhaps not since he’d been a kitten.
His lids were so heavy that he could not open his eyes, but he did twitch his nose. The odors around him were very strange. He was certain he had never smelled them before, yet they were not completely alien…He let his mind drift. That, at least, was easy. And in the depths of memory, Keen Eyes found the connection he sought. He had never smelled these things, not with his own nose, but he had experienced them in one of the memory songs Wide Ears had given to the scouts.
The song had been at several removes, but Wide Ears had been a strong singer. Moreover, she had been showing them these particular memories to help them in their scouting. For that reason, she had been even pickier than usual about making sure the various sensory details were as refined as possible.
The song was from the memory of two young People from the Damp Earth Clan. They had been trapped by one of the earlier fires in the past fire season—one in the lowlands, near the large central nesting place of the two-legs. These two—Right-Striped and Left-Striped—would certainly have been burned alive had their cries for help not been heard by Climbs Quickly of the Bright Water Clan, companion of the young two-leg called Death Fang’s Bane.
Without help, Climbs Quickly could not have saved them, but he had managed to make his two-leg companions understand that they were needed. After they were rescued, Right-Striped and Left-Striped had been taken to Death Fang’s Bane’s nesting place. Her sire, Healer, had treated their burns.
Some of the smells from that memory were what Keen Eyes was smelling now. Medications. The odor of the interior of one of the two-legs’ flying things. And, not at all in the least, that of several two-legs. He was very tired, but as a scout he was good at sorting through scents. Many of the two-leg scents were older. Those who had left them were not present. However, there were two sharper scents, strong enough to indicate that those who had made them were close by. Keen Eyes registered another scent, as well; that of a male Person of some years. Now that he had this focus, Keen Eyes realized he had been aware of this Person’s mind-glow since he had awakened. Its calm, comforting presence had a great deal to do with the feeling of being protected and relaxed that had been wrapped around him.
Tentatively, Keen Eyes spoke, <I thank you…I am Keen Eyes of the Landless Clan. You are?>
The comforting mind-glow replied, <I am Dirt Grubber of the Damp Ground Clan, although now I live with the two-leg called Windswept and her clan. The ones you smell are Windswept and Bleached Fur. We are in their flying thing, up in the sky.>
The mind-voice was accompanied by images. Keen Eyes recognized both Windswept and Bleached Fur from the background of Right-Striped and Left-Striped’s memories. However, he had had no idea that yet another Person had chosen to bond with a two-leg. He felt lost and confused. Dirt Grubber immediately moved to reassure him.
<There is no reason you should have known. My clan lives in the lowlands. Perhaps your memory singers have been too busy to share songs with another clan.>
<We have no memory singers.> Keen Eyes did not try to hide his pain and bitterness. His mind was muddied, perhaps from whatever had taken away the pain, but he managed to share something of the Landless Clan’s history since the fires. He deliberately held back its problems with Trees Enfolding Clan, for he had no idea whether or not Dirt Grubber or his clan was friendly with Trees Enfolding. They might even be related clans.
<You have had a bad time,> Dirt Grubber replied. <I would ask more, but you are very weak. Windswept has given you something to help with the pain. She is taking you to Darkness Foe, who will help you, but it is a long journey. I think you should try to rest.>
Keen Eyes wanted to protest, but he really was very tired. Dirt Grubber started purring, his mind-glow filling with slow, easy images—of plants unfolding their leaves, of sunlight warming fur, of eyes heavy with sleep after a good meal.
Keen Eyes did not resist, but gave himself over to sleep.
* * *
Scott MacDallan’s red hair shone like a landing beacon as Jessica brought her air car down behind the house he shared with his wife, Irina Kisaevna.
Fisher had been on his customary perch on Scott’s shoulder, but as soon as the car landed, he came racing across, waiting with obvious impatience until Anders opened the door. Flirting his tail in a gesture of thanks, Fisher leapt inside, where he joined Valiant.
Valiant had sat cuddled up next to the wounded treecat for the entire flight and now he made room so that Fisher could join him.
It takes absolutely no imagination at all, Anders thought, to figure out that something more than a group hug is going on here.
In the background, he could hear Jessica speaking to Scott: “Anders and I just lifted the hurt ’cat in, but do you think we should use a stretcher or something getting him back out?”
“I’ll give him a first exam here,” Scott said, shoving head and shoulders into the back of the air car. “Then we’ll decide. Move over, guys. I realize you’re helping him, but I need to take a look and I can’t do with you in the way.”
Valiant and Fisher moved aside as one, leaping to frame the doctor from new perches on the back of the seat.