Guo herself was from a different clan—from the dominant clan in the tribe, in fact. It was unlikely, but not inconceivable, that she herself might someday become the Great Mother of the Kiktu.
She did not view that prospect with pleasure. She had no desire to become a mother. She wanted to remain a battlemother, surrounded by warriors.
Like all infanta, she had her moments of curiosity and interest on the subject of truemales. Strange, silly creatures. Flighty; given to emotional excess. But skilled, it was said, in the ways of pleasure.
But such moments were few and fleeting. Had life been as she would have wanted, Guo would have been born a warrior. A female. She would have taken a lover from the ranks of the veterans, who would bring her joy in the yurt and protection on the battlefield.
A sudden image came to her mind of the beautiful Kopporu reaching her arms into Guo’s mantle—
She thrust the image away, horrified. Perversion.
She forced her thoughts to the future. She would probably not survive the morrow, in any event. The word had already spread throughout the tribe’s warriors, in whispers—Kopporu was opposed to the plan of battle, although she had insisted on the command of the right flank. The deliberations of the tribe leaders were supposed to be held in confidence, but such news could not be contained. Kopporu herself had said nothing, but the word had spread regardless.
The warriors had greeted the news with mixed emotions. Anger at Kopporu’s apparent disdain for the invincibility of the Kiktu warriors. Disquiet, because all knew of Kopporu’s genius on the battlefield. Determination to prove Kopporu wrong. Fear that Kopporu was right. But, most of all, admiration for Kopporu’s nobility of spirit.
Guo herself had no doubts of her own feelings. Her faith in the battle leader was absolute. And thus, she knew the tribe was doomed. But she would follow Kopporu’s example.
She grasped the mace in a huge palp. So fiercely that even a kogoclam would have been crushed within.
The Utuku will never take me alive. I will die with the tribe. And I will slay the savages in numbers beyond counting.
She stared at the mace. It was a gift. Kopporu had given it to her on the day the battle leader announced to the tribe that Guo had completed her training and was accepted into the battle group as a battlemother. It was a gift worthy of a great clan leader. Guo had no idea how Kopporu had managed to obtain it. The haft of the club was made of uluwood, beautifully carved. But the treasure was in the blades—made of the finest bronze, honed to a keen edge. The blades of most maces were obsidian. Guo, as a young and untested battlemother, had expected a mace with flint blades.
That night, Guo made a solemn vow. If she and the Kiktu survived the battle, she would see to it that justice was done. Like many of the younger warriors—and even some of the older ones—she was tired of the stifling regime of the clan leaders. She had no wish to become a mother, but when the time came she would do so—without complaint. She would devote herself to rising within the complex, intrigue-filled world of the mothers until she became the Great Mother of the Kiktu.
When that day came, she would see that Kopporu was given her rightful place in the tribe. Traditions be shat upon.
Let the old clan leaders wail.
PART II:
The Warp
Chapter 5
Indira Toledo turned the page of the notebook. A passage caught her eye.
It’s not as if I hadn’t spent years thinking about it. I wanted to be an exobiologist from as far back as I can remember. Fought like hell to win a place on the Magellan. But all those years I was convinced the vertebrate Bauplan—or some variation on it—was the only suitable structure for large terrestrial life-forms. That’s why I specialized in vertebrate paleontology.
Well, here I am. My dream come true. A planet full of large terrestrial life-forms. Including intelligent life forms—the first we’ve ever encountered. And the joke’s on me!