The trip through the grid was still nearly unbearable, but when Kika's vision cleared, her ears did not hurt as much as before. Perhaps she was growing stronger, she thought, then helped Onopa herd the rest of the group through the cave's labyrinth until they reached the outside air.
Night had fallen on Oleaaka. It had just rained and the wind rushed over her muzzle, sweet with moisture and life. A faint tapestry of stars glimmered through the thinning clouds far out over the sea. When they first came to this world, she had found the vast expanse of water troubling, but now the crash of waves upon the unseen shore was soothing and she wished to sit by the shore again.
Montrose made it as far as the mouth of the cave and collapsed gratefully outside against the rocks. She judged him to be in pain, but not in danger of his life.
The smallest human, Mitsu, though, was indeed near death. Every breath she drew brought more of the startling bright red blood to her mouth. Kika settled beside her on rain-soaked moss and placed her palm flat on Mitsu's rib cage
Wrongness flooded up through her, imbalance, injury. To be so small, compared to a hrinn, this one was indeed very resilient, but her strength was nearly at an end. Closing her eyes, she reached for the wild blue power stored in her own cells and fought for control. Instinct told her this release had to be slow, very slow. Adult males often fought one another with this kind of power, and a strong jolt could easily kill. Skal's body had been much more resilient.
The energy seeped through the human's body cell by cell, repairing ravaged tissues, stimulating growth, banishing pain and swelling. It felt good to acknowledge the power simmering through her as well as her craving to restore imbalances. All those seasons when she had repressed this gift could never be regained. There were so many she might have helped who now lay irretrievably beyond her claws. But if she had not turned away then, she would have been forced to flee Jhii and present herself at a Restorers' House, and so never joined the Rangers.
That must have been part of the pattern, that she lie fallow for a time, so she might be in this place, here and now, and if it were indeed the intended shape of her life, then she need regret nothing. All was as it should be.
The night wore on and she lost all sense of the scene around her as she struggled to maintain control. Almost as much energy was being lost in her attempt to regulate it as she was managing to impart. If this pattern ever took her back to Anktan, she must present herself for training at a Restorers' House and fully master this gift.
When Mitsu's breathing finally grew more even, less labored, Kika withdrew and sat for a time, head down, gauging the depths of her own exhaustion. She had spent much, but perhaps there was enough left to help another. With a sigh, she moved on to the next most in need, the pale-green laka translator with the shattered carapace. The laka was too weak to raise her head as Kika placed a palm over the spider web of chitin.
Though her control was ragged and her skills poor, perhaps she could ease this poor creature's misery. She bowed her head and began.
Onopa went into the forest for lengths of wood, then resplinted Montrose's leg. It wasn't much, she thought, but it would have to do until they got him to a proper med.
That done, she decided to return to their base camp to use the bulky com unit left up there. Montrose tried to talk her into waiting for dawn, but she didn't want Blackeagle to come back and find her sitting on her duff when there was work to be done and orders to be carried out.
She climbed through the night, half-blind with weariness. Slimy vines slithered across her path and caught at her battered boots. The rocks were slick after the rain and she kept slipping, but they had casualties and she couldn't just sit around and catch a few winks while others suffered and died. At least she could breathe back here on Oleaaka. She could be grateful for that much. Her lungs still ached and her eyes burned, but Jensen was far worse off and Montrose needed more pain meds.
Finally, though, she had to admit she just didn't know where the hell she was. She took shelter beneath a cliff, which would protect her from the last of the rain's runoff, and waited for dawn. She rested her head back against the rock, too tired to sleep. Every inch of her body was bruised and aching and . . .
With a start, she felt the warmth of sun dance across her face. She opened her eyes and saw the emerald tapestry of the rain forest down below, the rise and fall of the diamond-topped sea all the way to the horizon, and a black-uniformed Ranger captain standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression stern.
It seemed to take forever for the flek transfer-tech to retune the grid to its satisfaction. With Mitsu gone, Heyoka had to depend on the few words of Standard Fourth Translator had picked up, which proved altogether inadequate for the task at hand.
When the grid was finally pronounced ready, though, he went in the second group, along with Visht, Kei, the transfer-tech, and architect. That left mostly flek along with two laka, but their metabolisms could take the atmosphere far better than hrinn and humans. The actual transfer was as wrenching as before, cold as a Jovian moon and agonizing to his acute hrinnti hearing. If the Confederation ever did adopt this mode of transportation, they could forget about him using it. His ears were still ringing when he made his way out of the cave and up into the sweet morning air.
He had expected to see miserable survivors huddled together, somber faces, perhaps even a few dead, including Mitsu. Instead, he found an entire camp, complete with tents, a kitchen dispensing warm food, and a number of unfamiliar human Rangers.
Montrose lurched to his feet, his leg encased in a fresh clean professional-looking splint that couldn't have been fashioned from the materials at hand. He saluted. "Welcome back, Sergeant!"
Heyoka saluted back. "At ease, Corporal." He blinked at the bright sunlight and the organized bustle before him. "What is—all this?"
Montrose grinned, looking years younger than just a few hours ago. "The flek fell back unexpectedly, so the front has shifted again. It could even have something to do with the fall of the flek world on the other end of that grid. Once Oleaaka wasn't behind the lines anymore, the Marion returned to pick us up. Onopa found a search party up by the base camp and brought them down here. They transported Jensen and Naxk up to the ship for treatment, although they were already doing a lot better, but I requested to stay until the rest of the squad made it back."
"I see." Heyoka moved aside as Kei emerged from the cave and snarled with surprise.
"Master Sergeant Blackeagle?" A human came forward, male, fortyish, dark-headed, vaguely familiar.
Heyoka saluted somewhat sketchily, then nudged Kei to do the same. "Sir?"
"Captain Elias Tork," the man said and returned their salute. "Major Dennehy had to remain with the fleet, but he dispatched me in his place to pick up survivors, if there were any, and see if the transfer grid you discovered was still intact."
Heyoka blinked as a memory surfaced. "We were at Enjas Two together," he said. "I thought I knew you from somewhere."
"You were quite the legend back there," Tork said dryly. "It's not everyone who takes out an entire flek advance by himself."
"Those were special circumstances," Heyoka said, remembering the occasion of his first involuntary blueshift. "I don't think I could do it now."
"I heard you'd gone home," Tork said. "It looks like you put together a crack unit, though I think they tend to exaggerate. Your people have been telling me wild tales about transporting to a flek world and capturing the whole shebang?"
Heyoka could tell by the look in Tork's eye that he didn't believe a word of it. "It's true," he said diffidently, "for the most part."
Tork's eyes narrowed. "Exactly which part isn't true?"
"We didn't do it by ourselves, and we weren't able to capture everything and everyone there," Heyoka said. "To begin with, the laka provided what you might call `covering fire.' We couldn't have gotten ten steps beyond the other side without them, and then the flek destroyed a large segment of their city before we were able to intervene. Most of them had already suicided at that point rather than be captured."
"But you did go through that grid?"
"Yes." Heyoka suddenly had an idea of how crazy this all sounded.
"And you could do it again—any time?"
"As long as we had one of the laka drones along who understands its mechanism, or a captive flek tech. We couldn't do it by ourselves. I'm not sure non-flek could ever operate that sort of technology. It seems to be as much an art as a science."
"Can I see the grid?" Tork asked. A fierce hunger burned in his eyes. "I want to be able to say I have firsthand knowledge when I report all this back to Major Dennehy."
Kei bristled and his handclaws flexed. He whirled upon Heyoka, outrage blazing in his eyes. "He does not believe you! I will tear his ears off!"
"Stand down, Private," Heyoka said. "Humans are different than hrinn, though that shouldn't exactly be news at this point. They're so doubtful, sometimes they don't even believe the evidence provided by their own senses."
"That is ridiculous!" Kei said. "No wonder they don't perceive the sacred patterns/in/progress!" He stalked away, snarling.
Tork stared.
"I'm afraid we're still training," Heyoka said offhandedly. "Don't worry, though. He hardly ever attacks without warning these days."
"I—see." Tork clasped his hands behind his back. "The grid?"
"Of course," Heyoka said. "With any luck, the next group will be coming through about the time we get there. You'll get to see an authentic flek transfer grid in operation."
"How many of your people are left back on the flek world?" Tork asked.
"One," Heyoka said. "A casualty, I'm afraid. Most of the rest coming through now will be lower caste flek, along with a few laka."
Tork's eyes widened. "Flek?"
"Tame ones," Heyoka said. "I'll explain while we walk. It's a long story."
When word reached Dennehy that the grid was operational and provided direct access to a relatively intact flek city, he returned to Oleaaka within forty-eight hours with three shipfuls of experts. The news about the laka's potent song was an extra bonus.
"I don't mind admitting I thought this project of yours was a complete wash," he said to Heyoka a few hours after viewing the now quiescent grid for himself. "Humans and Anktan-raised hrinn just didn't seem to be able to work together. I'm glad I can give you the green light now, as well as another well-deserved promotion."
"There is the matter of my insubordination," Heyoka said. "I did refuse a direct order to evacuate."
Dennehy winked. "You know, I think I forgot to write that up," he said. "I guess it's too late now. At any rate, you put your people first, and it's hard to fault an officer for that."
"Very generous of you, sir," Heyoka said, "but I'm going to refuse that promotion. In fact, I intend to resign my commission."
The older man sagged. "You can't mean that."
"I do," he said. "I've been going over this whole operation in my mind, replaying what worked and what didn't, and why. It's clear to me that it's neither fair nor efficient to ask hrinn to constrain themselves enough to function within human command structures. I could do it, but just barely, and only because I was raised by humans."
He gestured at Kei, working beside Kika now, taking inventory of the captured flek weapons. "They're amazing warriors, blessed with boundless heart and courage, but we just hold them back by insisting on petty rules and regulations meant for the human psyche. They've got strengths of their own that should be encouraged, not beaten back and subdued."
"You sound like you already have something else in mind," Dennehy said.
"I do." Heyoka watched Visht and Onopa emerge out of the rain forest, side by side, conversing easily, apparently oblivious of their different origins. "I want to take my unit back to Anktan and work out an entirely new command structure, perhaps a cross between a hrinnti Line and a males' house. If it works, we can still serve in the war, but as Anktan troops, not Confederation ones. We'll be your allies, rather than your subordinates, fighting at your side, but not under your command. We have to find our own way, a new pattern if you will, that fits us all."
"Don't resign," Dennehy said, "at least not yet. Take a leave of absence. Let me bring this to Headquarters. Perhaps we can work something out."
"All right, I'll hold off," Heyoka said. "For now, anyway." He turned to watch Visht, the reticent priest, who had followed the Black/on/black across space on the strength of his belief in this pattern; Kika, outcast from her own Line, who would have died by the hand of her own kin, had she not left with the Rangers; and Kei, the rebel, born of outlawed Levv, like himself, and raised outside hrinnti conventions. Anktan had no role for any of them, and yet they all made fine Rangers, in their own fashion. Even Skal, with all his faults and quirks, had done well in the end. He doubted a squad staffed with only humans or hrinn could have been nearly as successful in this operation. Their strengths had combined in synergistic ways.
"What about your human recruits?" asked Dennehy. "They've worked hard on this project too. You can't just tell them `never mind' and send them packing."
"They're welcome," Heyoka said. "I'll screen any and all applicants, as soon as I get set up. Those who have already trained with us can go now, or anytime later, if they wish."
Dennehy nodded. "Well, there's a shuttle due to land from the ship in a few minutes. I'm going back on it to the Marion and see if I can finish my reports. The holos of the flek city you sent back yesterday were magnificent! We've already learned more in the last few days than we have in years of long-range research."
Heyoka walked with him to the edge of camp and saw the major off, then found Kei waiting for him when he returned to the cave's entrance. The hole had been widened and stabilized by the Rangers for ease of access. The laka, busy with socializing their newly acquired flek, stayed away for the most part. The place still made them uneasy, but they had provided both a translator and grid-tech on duty all of the time.
"You told him," Kei said.
"Yes," Heyoka said. "And he seemed to understood. He thinks we might even be able to work this out and maintain an official relationship with the Rangers."
The noise of an incoming shuttle shrieked down through the atmosphere and he looked up in time to see it landing up on a terrace on the side of the mountain.
"That is good," Kei said. "I thought he would refuse. I still have difficulty predicting what humans will do, and the few times that I have been right, I always wished I weren't."
"I feel the same sometimes about hrinn," Heyoka said, "although I was glad to be wrong back in the flek city when Mitsu boxed your ears. I thought for a minute there you were going to tear out her throat."
"I was." Kei's black eyes, almost invisible against his black fur, blinked solemnly.
"What stopped you?"
"I glimpsed something in her face, for just a breath," he said. "I realized I had seen it before, in the faces of humans on Anktan, when we came together that night to attack the grid. She was part of what was arising both then and now, and I realized, no matter how great her offense, I had to let her live."
"You saw a pattern?"
"The one that was named before, stars/over/stars. Kika thinks she saw part of it too, and Visht. It's too big for one individual to comprehend, and it's not yet complete. It's still taking shape, even here in this distant place."
"You know, you didn't believe in patterns when I first came back to Levv," Heyoka said.
"Being caught up in one this large and overwhelming would make a believer out of anyone," Kei said crossly, "and all who come close to you will always be caught up in it. It's plain you are its center."
Heyoka had always been uncomfortable with this mystical stuff, but he supposed this sort of thing was the price of resembling an old legend. He rubbed his ears in frustration.
"Heyoka!" Mitsu's voice came from the slopes above.
"Down here!" He waved an arm, though he couldn't see her yet. Word was that she was much better, though the meds said she would not have survived the night, if Kika hadn't intervened.
In his new unit, there would be a place for Restorers, as well as cublings, misfits, and cast-offs of every rank. He would take them all, human and hrinn, male and female, and craft something unique that combined their strengths.
Mitsu crested the last rise and waved back. Her black hair feathered in the wind. She was pink-faced with exertion and grinning. "They wanted me to stay up there on the ship and interpret the flek data as it came in, but I talked them into letting me rejoin the squad."
"You look good," Heyoka said. And she did. Her cheeks had filled out again and the shadows that had haunted her eyes since Anktan were gone. She seemed much more her old self, but with a new assurance.
"Oh, I'm fine," she said carelessly. "I really didn't need to go back up to the ship in the first place. They made me."
"Glad I wasn't there, then." He gave her a broad hrinnti smile, pulling his lips back and revealing wicked double rows of teeth. Most humans, he knew, found it daunting, but Mitsu just grinned back.
"You were right all along about the laka and the flek," he said. "I should have trusted you."
"You couldn't know," she said. Her blue eyes sobered. "Heck, I couldn't know. The flek had messed with my mind so thoroughly back on Anktan, I could have been as crazy as a flea in null-grav and killed us all."
"But you held out," he said. "You made it."
"We made it." A smile crinkled the corners of her eyes.
"So, how do you feel about going back to Anktan? I've got a few ideas I want to discuss with you, after I bounce them off Command."
"I think I need to go back," she said. "I need to stand on that plain beyond the mountains, where the grid used to be, so I can feel it's really, truly over."
They were companionably silent together for a moment, letting the bright Oleaakan sun stream over their faces, the breeze bathe them in pleasant green scents. It was going to be all right, he thought, watching her subtly altered expression. The impression of being wound tighter than a coiled spring had left her body. Mitsu was not precisely herself again—too much had happened for that—but she was on the road to someone that, perhaps, in the end, she would like to be.
She sighed, but he read contentment in the sound, rather than dissatisfaction, a safe coming to rest. "At any rate," she said, "Command is so wired about this find. They think it's going to make a huge difference fighting the war from now on. By the way, they've determined there definitely are no other cities on the flek world. It was just a single garrison, as the captured flek techs have been telling us." She shaded her eyes. "So, where's Kei, anyway?"
Heyoka looked around, but the hrinn had beaten a hasty retreat as soon as she'd come into view. He flicked an ear. "I think he's embarrassed. He had the perfect excuse to kill you back in the flek city and let it slip out of his claws."
Just then another of the around-the-clock exploratory teams emerged from the cave, complete with air tanks, sound dampers, and protective masks, back from a trip through the grid. At the tail end of the group, he was shocked to see a grimy hrinn, supported on either side by overwhelmed humans.
"Skal!" He bounded forward to take the piebald hrinn's arm. "I thought you were dead!"
"Probably too bloody mean to die," Mitsu muttered as she took the other arm and staggered beneath his weight.
Skal raised his head and regarded them with bleary encrusted eyes. "That is a terrible place," he rasped in hrinnti, then broke into a deep, rasping cough. His fur was patchy. One of his ears dangled and would not stand erect. "After we became separated, I could not find a single thing left to kill!"