young and we'd taken a family vacation to Pamplona, in the Southern European territories. And there, I'd seen some old ritual that involved countless people strolling around in the dark of night, holding candles. The windows had been ornamented with tapestries, and there had been flowers everywhere, making the night air redolent of wax and roses. I remembered leaning out a window, over the soft, silken tapestry, while my mom held me around the middle of my body. "Thena, look how lovely," she'd said, whispering in my ear.
Thena. Is that your name?
The creature's voice, directly into my mind, made me jump. I answered in offended dignity and horror that he'd been in my mind and seen that memory of all memories - and fear he'd think me soft and easy to subdue because of it— Athena Hera Sinistra, Patrician of Earth.
Oh. Earthworm AND inbred. Yes, yes, something to be proud of, he said, his tone just as haughty as I suspected mine had been. My name is Kit to my friends, but you may call me Christopher Bartolomeu Klaavil.
Are you going to let me in? I asked.
Your wish is my command, he said, in a voice that didn't sound the least like it. Look to your right.
I did, in time to see the door open on the ship skin. I scrambled over with unseemly haste. Being on the outside and subjected to the creature's whim on whether or not to let me back in was not my idea of a rousing good-time.
He was inside the air-lock, attired in a bright blue space suit, similar to mine, but clearly his size. Of course, that made one wonder, exactly, who had worn the suit I was wearing. I thought of the blond woman in the picture. What had happened to her?
His words, I don't work well with others , came to my mind and made me shiver.
I never . . . His voice said in my mind. I wouldn't— I had the impression of a door, forcefully slammed down on his thoughts. Oh, hell, what does it matter, anyway. Please get in, so I can close the air lock.
I obeyed, and he closed the outer door, then did something with a valve and a control on the wall. I could hear air hissing into this tight compartment. "What do you wish me to do?" he asked.
I looked at him puzzled. His face was just visible through the helmet, half in shadows, making his cat-like eyes even more alien and stranger.
"You saved my life," he said. The voice had the tone of something spoken through clenched teeth. "I owe you a debt of gratitude. I don't think you can go much farther on the ship you used to come here. Your power reserve is almost empty and I don't know how to recharge it. Our tech is different. But I owe you my life, and so I must repay it anyway you wish. Where do you wish to go?"
"To Earth," I said, immediately, without thinking.
He cackled.
"You said—"
"I'll help you as I can, but that doesn't include an offer to have myself stuffed, mounted and hung in a museum as a specimen of forbidden bio-engineering modifications."The air had stopped hissing in, and he now opened the interior door and motioned for me to go through ahead of him, which I did.
He followed.
"You're a Mule," I said, shivering. It was a leap of reasoning.
He gasped. "No," he said. "Merely an ELF." And then, as though perhaps catching some trace of surprise from my thoughts. "An Enhanced Life Form. I was bioengineered in womb, via a designed virus."
"With cat genes?"
He shook his head, his face in shadows. "Of course not. The hair is an accidental, rare, side effect. And the eyes only look feline, because the function dictates form. They're best for seeing in the dark, tracking motion. With improvements to reflexes and speed of motion, they make people like me ideal for piloting harvester ships."
"The darkships?"
"Well, of course they're dark," he said. "We really don't want earthworms . . . er . . . earthers to catch us, do we? We work in the dark, and use ships without lights. Hence the modifications to my eyes. I work well in the dark."
"But not in
Thena. Is that your name?
The creature's voice, directly into my mind, made me jump. I answered in offended dignity and horror that he'd been in my mind and seen that memory of all memories - and fear he'd think me soft and easy to subdue because of it— Athena Hera Sinistra, Patrician of Earth.
Oh. Earthworm AND inbred. Yes, yes, something to be proud of, he said, his tone just as haughty as I suspected mine had been. My name is Kit to my friends, but you may call me Christopher Bartolomeu Klaavil.
Are you going to let me in? I asked.
Your wish is my command, he said, in a voice that didn't sound the least like it. Look to your right.
I did, in time to see the door open on the ship skin. I scrambled over with unseemly haste. Being on the outside and subjected to the creature's whim on whether or not to let me back in was not my idea of a rousing good-time.
He was inside the air-lock, attired in a bright blue space suit, similar to mine, but clearly his size. Of course, that made one wonder, exactly, who had worn the suit I was wearing. I thought of the blond woman in the picture. What had happened to her?
His words, I don't work well with others , came to my mind and made me shiver.
I never . . . His voice said in my mind. I wouldn't— I had the impression of a door, forcefully slammed down on his thoughts. Oh, hell, what does it matter, anyway. Please get in, so I can close the air lock.
I obeyed, and he closed the outer door, then did something with a valve and a control on the wall. I could hear air hissing into this tight compartment. "What do you wish me to do?" he asked.
I looked at him puzzled. His face was just visible through the helmet, half in shadows, making his cat-like eyes even more alien and stranger.
"You saved my life," he said. The voice had the tone of something spoken through clenched teeth. "I owe you a debt of gratitude. I don't think you can go much farther on the ship you used to come here. Your power reserve is almost empty and I don't know how to recharge it. Our tech is different. But I owe you my life, and so I must repay it anyway you wish. Where do you wish to go?"
"To Earth," I said, immediately, without thinking.
He cackled.
"You said—"
"I'll help you as I can, but that doesn't include an offer to have myself stuffed, mounted and hung in a museum as a specimen of forbidden bio-engineering modifications."The air had stopped hissing in, and he now opened the interior door and motioned for me to go through ahead of him, which I did.
He followed.
"You're a Mule," I said, shivering. It was a leap of reasoning.
He gasped. "No," he said. "Merely an ELF." And then, as though perhaps catching some trace of surprise from my thoughts. "An Enhanced Life Form. I was bioengineered in womb, via a designed virus."
"With cat genes?"
He shook his head, his face in shadows. "Of course not. The hair is an accidental, rare, side effect. And the eyes only look feline, because the function dictates form. They're best for seeing in the dark, tracking motion. With improvements to reflexes and speed of motion, they make people like me ideal for piloting harvester ships."
"The darkships?"
"Well, of course they're dark," he said. "We really don't want earthworms . . . er . . . earthers to catch us, do we? We work in the dark, and use ships without lights. Hence the modifications to my eyes. I work well in the dark."
"But not in
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