Maeve by Jo Clayton Page B

nodded at Tipylexne. He turned and strode arrogantly down a nearly invisible trail, his hunters falling into line behind. As they followed, the starwoman turned to him. “Remember, my friend, I’m a healer. If this gets too bad, I can help.”
    He shivered and walked faster.
    â€œGwynnor.”
    â€œWhat?” He threw the word back over his shoulder without slowing. He didn’t want to listen to her.
    â€œSmell works below the level of consciousness so you’ll be feeling queasy awhile.”
    â€œHuh?” Distracted, he tripped over a root and nearly fell. She caught hold of his arm, steadying him on his feet. Embarrassed, he walked beside her, staring fixedly at the green haze that shrouded everything more than a few meters off.
    â€œWhat I’m trying to say is you’ll get used to these strange smells quickly if you don’t keep tensed up all the time. Let yourself relax. Remember, even though you’re a stranger here, the cludair accept you.”
    â€œBecause of you.”
    â€œSo?” She chuckled suddenly, the sound startlingly loud against the background of small constant rustlings. “You ought to be cheering the cludair on, Gwynnor. They want to get the aliens off Maeve as much as you do. Maybe more.”
    He looked thoughtfully at the back of the cludair just ahead, feeling a little lightheaded as she forced him to examine once again the beliefs that ruled his life.
    Silence settled thickly around the line of walkers.

Chapter VII
    â€œI see them, Lee. Give me time, will you?” Shadith’s purple eyes narrowed in a thoughtful frown. Using Aleytys’ farseeing gift, she probed into the machine as it ate slowly through the forest, spewing out lumber and debris. The sawteeth ripped through the scent glands in the wood, releasing gouts of odor until the stench was as overwhelming as the noise.
    Aleytys followed Shadith’s exploration, understanding nothing, feeling bewildered and lost in the complex of lines and forces the singer was sorting out to her obvious satisfaction.
    Shadith’s laughter gently mocked her. “I call them, you pull them, Lee. You don’t have to worry why.”
    â€œHuh.” Aleytys shifted on the uncomfortably knobby branch, looked briefly at the ground, shivered and wrenched her eyes away. “Well?”
    â€œJust be a good girl and listen.”
    â€œGirl!”
    Shadith sobered. “Look. There. You can see the power flowing like thin lines. Very close but not touching. All you have to do is force a conduit from one to the other. Then, whoosh! Pieces of machine raining from the sky. I’ll pick the spots. Mmmm. At least two, I think.”
    Aleytys wrinkled her nose. “It seems such a tiny thing to stop that monster.”
    Shadith’s laughter was full and warm. “Lee, a short between power lines carrying that load! Well, it’ll be effective. Believe me. You won’t be disappointed.”
    â€œIf you say so.” Aleytys backed carefully down the limb to the trunk, then swung down to the forest floor.
    Qilasc fingered the nine rule-beads laced on a heavy thong that hung between her high, shrunken breasts. Tipylexne, reserved and impassive, stood beside her, hands tight on the short powerful bow that was the sign of his manhood. Behind him, six nameless cludair squatted calm and ready, expert hunters, with only their skills to worry about, not the life or death of a people.
    To one side, Gwynnor waited, back pressed against a tree, unhappy and tautly nervous. She smiled at him and, by effort of will, he produced a twitch of his lips in answer. Slowly, with her help, with the healing effect of the passage of time, with the growing familiarity with a naturally dignified and open-hearted people, he was breaking free from his instinctive revulsion for the cludair. Teaching the cludair boy, Ghastay, the first steps in playing the flute was helping the alteration in his attitude move