The sage explained.

"We brought this legacy in order to maintain some minimal semblance of human culture in exile. But four people can't establish a civilization, no matter how many books they have. We must prepare for the likelihood that all of this must be destroyed."

Clearly the prospect gnawed at Ozawa. His face, already haggard, now seemed sliced by pain. Dwer averted his gaze, concentrating on the work at hand, separating only supplies helpful to a small party of fugitives on the run.

Jenin chewed on the news and nodded. "Well, if we must live and raise families without books, I guess that just puts us ahead of schedule, no? A bit farther along the Path of-"

She stopped. Danel was shaking his head.

"No, Jenin. That is not the way things will be.

"Oh, we four might as well try to survive. But even if we did make it to some far-off valley, beyond reach of whatever demise the aliens have planned, it's unlikely we'd adapt to a strange ecosystem in time. Rety told us that her band lost half its first generation to accidents and allergic reactions. That's typical for sooner groups, till they learn what's safe to eat or touch. It's a deadly, trial-and-error process. Four just isn't enough."

"I thought-"

"And that leaves out the problem of inbreeding-"

"You can't mean-"

"But even if we could solve all of those dilemmas, it still wouldn't work, because we aren't going to start a band of fallen savages, spiraling into ignorance, even if the scrolls give that fate all sorts of fancy names. Human beings never came to Jijo for the Path of Redemption."

Dwer looked up from his work. Lena halted as well, holding a thick tube with a clockwork fuse at one end. Up to that point, Ozawa had been explaining what Dwer already knew. But now silence reigned. No one was going to move or speak until the sage explained.

For a second time, Danel Ozawa sighed deeply.

"The secret is pa.s.sed on to a few, each generation. But I see no point in concealing it from you three, whom I now think of as kin, as family.

"Some of the other five races were appalled when we built Biblos. The Great Printing seemed to imply we had no intention of ever forgetting. Our founders did some smooth talking to explain the flood of books. A temporary measure, they called it. A way to help all races live in enough comfort to concentrate on developing their souls, till we're spiritually ready to move on down the Path.

"Officially, it's the long-term goal of each of the Six. But the Tabernacle founders never meant their descendants to devolve down to speechless proto-humans, ready for some race of star-G.o.ds to adopt and uplift."

The sage paused until Dwer finally broke in. "Then why are we here?"

Danel shrugged. "Everyone knows that each race had ulterior motives. Those forbidden to breed at home sought a place where they can have offspring as they please. Or take the g'Keks, who tell of persecutors, hounding them throughout the star lanes."

"So humans came to Jijo because folks on Earth weren't sure they'd survive?"

Ozawa nodded. "Oh, we'd made a few friends, who helped Earth get a Library branch. And having uplifted two client races, we won low-level patron status. Still, Galactic history doesn't offer much hope for a wolfling race like ours. We already had enemies. The Terragens Council knew Earth would be vulnerable for a long time to come."

"So the Tabernacle crew weren't outcasts?"

Danel ticked a thin smile. "A cover story, in case the colonists were caught, so the Council could disavow them as renegades. In fact, our ancestors were sent to find a hidden refuge for humankind." The sage raised his hands. "But where? Despite rumors, no route is known beyond the Five Galaxies. Within them, every star is catalogued, many with lease-holders to watch over 'em. So the Terragens searched the Great Library to see what other races did in our position.

"Despite flaws, the 'sooner' phenomenon showed promise."

Lena shook her head. '"There's a lot you're leavin' out. Like what we're supposed to be doing here, while hiding, if our mission isn't to go down the Path."

"If Lester or the others know, they haven't told me," Danel answered. "Maybe we're to sit tight and wait for the universe to change. Anyway, that hardly matters now. If our culture's finished, I won't have any part in going on as wretched fragments, whelping kids who will be no more than savage brutes."

Jenin started to speak, but then pressed her lips.

"At least we know Earth has survived a few hundred years," Dwer said.

"Though the forayers say there's a crisis," Lena noted. "With Earth in the middle of it."

Danel looked away, his jaw set.

"Hey," Dwer said, "aren't the sky-humans exactly what that Terra Council wanted? To have a branch of humans off somewhere safe from whatever happens to Earth? Those guys you met back at the Glade have these Rothen characters to protect them."

Danel exhaled. "Perhaps, though who knows if they'll remain human under that influence? The irony of being murdered by cousins seems too much to bear."

The sage shook himself, as if shedding cobwebs.

"Let's prepare that pyre. If these items cannot serve a civilized tribe of exiled Earthlings, then we can at least do our duty by this world and leave no dross. Lena, set the timer to go off one day from now, if we don't return."

"Return?" Lena looked up from her preparations. "I thought we were giving up-"

She rocked back as the sage whirled, with some of the old fire in his eyes.

"Who said anything about giving up! What's the matter with you three? Look at your faces. Are you going to let one little setback get you down?"

A little setback? Dwer wondered, glancing at the blast scars and shattered trees surrounding the urrish encampment. "I don't get it. You said we can't finish our mission."

"So?" Danel Ozawa demanded. "We're adaptable. We'll switch missions] We're not colonists anymore-so what?

"We can still be warriors."

Rety THE PRISONERS LAY DEJECTED. IN MUDDY wallows, necks drooping, already stinking after two days' confinement in the dank pen. Thirteen urs who would have preferred the arid plateau where they had settled, till a warcraft screeched over their camp without warning, casting lightning, driving the survivors toward Ja.s.s and the other hunters^ waiting with rough ropes.

Thus Kunn had fulfilled his side of a bargain, ridding the hills of a recent, hated urrish infestation. In return, Ja.s.s was to guide Kunn to the site where he and Bom first saw the flying bird-thing. No one knew why the deal later broke down-why Ja.s.s abruptly changed his mind, preferring the robot's caresses over giving the pilot what he wanted.

No one except Rety.

Binni used to say-why defy men, who can beat you if you make them mad? Use words to nudge and guide the brutes. Make 'em think it was their idea all along.

But I kept talking back, didn't I?

Well, I finally tried it your way, Binni, and know what? You were right. Nothing I could do to Ja.s.s could ever hurt him like he's hurting himself, right now.

Bom was guarding the gate to the prisoners' pen. The burly hunter hurriedly obeyed her command to open up, not once meeting Rety's eyes. He knew where his pal was now. Just two things kept Bom from sharing the same fate. First was his notoriously poor sense of direction. Alone, he could never find the place where he and Ja.s.s had spotted the metal bird.

The other thing was Rety's whim. Bom's abject cringing pleased her more than screams. This bully was scared half out of his breech-clout.

When she glared at the boys spitting at the prisoners, they jumped off the wall and ran. She cast curt laughter after them. The tribe-kids never used to speak to her in the old days, either.

She entered the pen.

Ul-Tahni, leader of the unlucky urs, greeted Rety with a fluid bow of her long neck. From a gray-fringed snout, she launched into a series of whistles and clicks, till Rety broke in.

"None o' that now!" she admonished. "I don't follow that jabber."

Wincing, Ul-Tahni switched to Anglic.

"I afologize. Your attire deceives the eye into seeing a Galactic-level ent.i.ty."

Rety lifted her head. "You weren't dee-seeved. That's exactly what I am."

I hope, she added inside. Rann and the others could change their minds before the ship returned, especially once she gave them all she had in trade. Even if the forayers kept their word, she would, in time, have to learn all those crazy languages they used among the stars.

"Again, regret for having offended. Is it true, then? You have veen adofted off Jijo's forlorn desert into the running-clan of star creatures? What a fortunate youngling you are."

"Yeah," Rety agreed, wondering if the urs was being sarcastic. "So, yee says you're ready to tell us what your bunch was doing out here, beyond the Rimmers."

A long sigh blew the gray fringe.

"We arrived, disgracefully, to set uf a colony, freserving our kind in a secret sanctuary."

Rety grunted. "That much is obvious. But why here? Why now?"

"It is a site already ascertained to ve ha vita vie . . . suitavle for sustaining Earthlings, and therefore the donkeys we rely on. You yourself testified to that fact."

"Ah." Ul-Tahni must have been one of the junior sages in the pavilion when Rety told her story to the High Council. "Go on."

"As to our haste-we sought to elude the fate soon to fall on the Slofe, annihilation at the hands of star-felons."

Rety reacted angrily. "I've heard that d.a.m.ned lie before. They'd never do a thing like that!"

Ul-Tahni rocked her head. "I stand corrected. Clearly such fine ent.i.ties would not slay folk who had done them no hurt, nor cast death without warning from a cloudy sky."

This time the sarcasm was thick. Rety glanced at a young middling urs with a nasty burn along one flank, from the flying robot's heat beam.

"Well, I guess it's just your tough luck we had reason to come visit, asking directions, and found you already at war with my old family."

"Not war. A transient discord. One we did not initiate. Naturally, your cousins were shocked to see us. Our idea was to vanquish their reflex hostility with resolute friendliness. To induce cordiality with gifts and offers of a.s.sistance."

"Yeah, right." Rety knew how early human settlers had been treated by urrish clans of yore. "I bet you also counted on having better weapons than any they had here."

Again, a snorted sigh. "As your a.s.sociates crushed us, using fower far greater than our own? It kindles wonder-could this chain of uneven strength ve extrafolated?"

Rety didn't like the bemused look in those beady urrish eyes. "What do you mean?"

"A conjecture. Could there exist forces as far suferior to your new lords as they are over us? In all the wide galaxies, can one ever be sure one has chosen the right side?"

The words sent twinges up Rety's spine, reminding her of recent disturbing dreams.

"You don't know nothin'about galaxies an' such, so don't you pretend-"

At that moment a sudden yelp cut her short, as yee popped his head out of the pouch, mewling with unease. A ripple of reaction spread among the prisoners' husbands, who emerged howling, swinging their heads to face south. Soon the larger females followed suit, clambering to their feet.

Rety worried-was it a revolt? But no, clearly something was unnerving them.

"What d'you hear?" she demanded of yee.

"engine/" the little urs answered, corks.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his agile neck.

A moment later Rety sensed it too. A distant whine. She brought a hand to the b.u.mp near her ear and pressed.

"Hey, Kunn! What's going on?"

There followed a long pause, during which the open line relayed cabin sounds-switches being thrown, motors revving. Finally, the pilot's voice buzzed near her skull.

"Ja.s.s chose to cooperate, so we're off now in search of the source of your metal bird."

"But I want to go too!"

Kunn's reply was cool.

"Ja.s.s told me everything, including the reason he resisted so hard. It seems you convinced him I'd finish him off the moment he told what he knew. That he would live only until then. Now why did you tell the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d such a thing, Rety? It caused inconvenience and unnecessary pain."

Rety thought-Unnecessary for you, but darn important to me! Revenge was only half of her rationale for manipulating Ja.s.s. But it would have been enough all by itself.

"Kunn, don't leave me. I'm one of you now. Rann an' Besh, an' even Ro-pol said so!"

Suddenly she felt small and very vulnerable, with urs in front of her and Bom behind at the gate, surrounded by others who would surely love to bring her down. She covered her mouth and lowered her voice, whispering urgently for the little transmitter, "The sooners'll turn on me, Kunn. I know it!"

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before." Another long pause followed. Then-"If Rann hadn't insisted on long-range radio silence, I could talk it over with the others before deciding."

"Deciding what?"

"Whether to bring you back, or to leave you where you began."

Rety fought down a trembling that coursed her body, in response to Kunn's harsh words. Her hopes were a bright tower that seemed about to crash.

"/'// tell you what, I'll leave the robot to protect you, Rety. It will do what you say till I get back. Do not abuse the privilege."

Her heart leaped at the phrase-till I get back.

"I promise!" she whispered urgently.

"Treat this as a second chance. Question the urs. Destroy their weapons. Don't let anyone leave the valley. Do a good job and we may wipe the slate clean when I return-providing my hunt flushes out the prey at last.

"Kunn out."

The line clicked, cutting off the cabin sounds. Rety quelled an urge to press the b.u.t.ton and choke out another plea to be taken along. Instead she set her teeth grimly and climbed the fence rails to stare as a silvery dart lifted out of the narrow canyon, turned in the morning light, then streaked southward, leaving her with a heart as cold and barren as a glacier.

Dwer THE SOONER VILLAGE WAS A SIMMERING PLACE that squatted at the base of a canyon filled with dense, sulfurous, listless air.

A h.e.l.lish place, from an urrish point of view. Dwer's high vantage point looked down at the captives, in their cramped pen. Long necks drooped, and they lay like the atmosphere, barely moving.