When the Standard broadcast was repeated, Neeva said, “I know that voice, too. Doesn’t that sound like Khornya’s kind and generous uncle Hafiz? He spoke before we parted of start ing a trade colony on that moon where we went to recuperate after-”
The other two nodded, indicating she needed to be no more specific. “That must surely be where they all are now.”
“I have the coordinates right here, Neeva,” Melireenya’s voice practically sang. “Perhaps he can contact the Federation and they will drive the Khieevi away.” She smiled up at the Niriians. “Your world may be saved yet.”
They clasped each other so tightly their horns locked. “Only let it be so,” the captain said fervently.
Acorna ‘was awakened by a brilliant light shining in her eyes. She opened them wide. She was very tired, having spent the day formulating evacuation plans for the children. The first shipload carrying the youngest ones was to leave in two days’ time with Calum on the AcaSecki. The crew of the Haven would send their youngest along too, but the older ones insisted they would stay and fight. Acorna had also done translations of follow-up messages to broadcast in the languages she knew-Linyaari of course, but also Federation-based languages. The Khieevi had invaded Federation space once in search of Linyaari, who was to say they would not do it again?
The tension and her efforts both had wearied her until she had fallen onto her cot too tired to say goodnight to Maati.
Now the light awakened her and her first thought was that she was being wakened because the compound was under attack.
Aari knelt beside her, a few feet from her sleeping pad. He looked rather odd, but not especially alarmed. Maati, on the other side of Acorna from her brother, was rolled onto her side and covered completely by her blanket. She did not seem to notice the light. Acorna rubbed her eyes. “What is it, Aari? Is something the matter?” she whispered.
“Hark!” he said.
“What?” she asked, thinking for one ridiculous moment that he might break into a holiday carol, though she had no idea why he would unless he had been inspired by something he had been reading. But the archaic term was the only word he uttered in Standard. The rest was in Linyaari.
“What light is breaking through the pavilion flap over there? It is the suns and Khornya is the moons!” he asked in a very soft version of their rather nasal native language. Evidently this was not, then, an alarm, unless it was perhaps in some sort of code.
Otherwise, oh dear, she had to wonder if perhaps he might have a fever? An infection perhaps? Or a poisoning? She had no idea really which dangers he might be more susceptible to, without his horn, than the average Linyaari.
“Aari, are you all right?” she asked. “You look ratherwell, no pale, but see-throughish. I don’t like the texture of your skin. And what you are saying does not entirely make sense. Here, let me feel your pulse… .”
But he backed away a bit, babbling, “A reed is a reed by any other name and would still not smell very much but be as graceful and delicious as Khornya.” He beckoned her to follow. Which she did because whether his strange utterances were a code for danger or because he was ill, she could hardly ignore them.
Aari thought at first he must be dreaming. Khornya knelt a short distance from his sleeping mat. She was surrounded by a very bright light, as if perhaps she’d taken .radiation, and was looking at him with a yearning that echoed that he felt whenever he looked at her.
“Khornya!” he said, when she did not speak. “Khornya, is something wrong? Are the Khieevi attacking?” He looked for Thariinye, to waken and warn him, but the other man was not on his mat. This was not unusual for Thariinye. He had been gone a great deal lately, working on translations and evacuation procedures and also apparently chatting up females, even if they were the wrong species, just to keep in practice, as he said.
Khornya did not answer him directly but instead said something very strange. He thought it might be code, but if so, no one had given him the key.