Manta's Gift

TEN

It took a few ninedays for them to settle into their new routine. They had considerably more freedom as Breeders than they had had as children, and Pranlo and Drusni in particular seemed to relish the opportunity to go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted to. The Three Musketta, as Pranlo persisted in calling them, ranged far and wide, laughing and talking and eating their way through the Jovian skies. They flitted up and down between Level Two and the upper parts of Level Four, crisscrossed back and forth across the equator a dozen times, and sometimes even skipped part of their normal sleep cycle in their excitement.

Raimey, who had grown up in the shadow of a personal Protector, didn't notice nearly as much of a change in his freedom as the others did. But their spirit was both contagious and fun to watch, and he jumped into the new activities right alongside them. Besides, even he found a certain relief in not having to always know where the herd was so that he could get back to it before sundark.

Still, as always, there was also a debit side to the freedom ledger. None of them, including Raimey, had ever realized quite how much work their leaders had put into locating food sources and guiding the rest of the herd to them. Now, as the Three Musketta moved about on their own, they discovered that the delicate tendrils and swirls of tasty color weren't nearly as plentiful as they'd always thought.

Some days they had to hunt for ninth-parts on end before they found anything at all to eat.

Especially as they were now competing for that food with all the other Breeders who had recently left their herds, not to mention all those who had graduated to adulthood before them. At first it had been fun to meet Qanska from other herds, to exchange names and stories and find out what life was like swimming in different winds. But the excitement began a distinctly downward curve the first time they tried to swim with a group of others, only to learn that they'd already cleaned out every bit of food in the vicinity.

And by the time a different group forcibly ordered them to go away, even the gregarious Drusni had had enough. From that point on, they swam alone.

There were other dangers besides hunger, too. Larger Vuuka prowled these lower levels than had generally been able to reach the nurseries on Level One, and from the lower parts of Level Two downward there were packs of Sivra to deal with, as well.

Again, the Three Musketta didn't have nearly as much trouble with predators as the typical Breeder, not with Virtamco plying his silently watchful path off to the side. Just the same, in those first few ninedays they had to beat off three Vuuka attacks and outrun a pack of Sivra. And it was always a darkly sobering experience to come upon the remains of a Vuukan or Sivran meal and wonder if the Qanska had been anyone they'd known.

So the thrill of new adulthood quickly and quietly faded away, winding down to a matter of survival.

Survival with good friends and occasional laughter and enjoyment, certainly, but survival nonetheless.

And then, as if the universe were conspiring to complicate matters as much as possible, Raimey began feeling strange and discomfiting changes taking place inside him.

Latranesto had spoken of mating urges at that last hearing he and Drusni had gone through, warning of the possible uncontrolled consequences if those urges occurred in the wrong place. But as near as Raimey could remember, he hadn't felt anything of the sort when he'd been defending that pregnant female from the Sivra. There had been determination and anger, even fear, but nothing that could possibly qualify as an urge. For a long time afterward he had worried about that, wondering whether there was something wrong with him. Something in his human psychology, perhaps, that could override even the basic biochemistry of his Qanskan body.

But now, in a way that was somehow both sudden and subtle, the urges and feelings were beginning to come over him. He couldn't tell whether it was the new freedom that was triggering the changes, or the different and more varied diet they were being exposed to, or even simply the fact that he was getting older.

Or perhaps it was Drusni.

Drusni. Sweet, caring, vibrant, radiant Drusni. He found himself watching her every move, listening to her every word, hanging eagerly onto her every thought. He couldn't get enough of her. Her image danced through his mind, her voice sang in his dreams. Drusni.

And eventually, one sundark as the three of them were winding down toward sleep, he finally had to admit to himself that he was in love with her.

It was a startling discovery, all the more so coming from someone who could still remember what it was like to be human. There had been many women he'd known back then... but somehow, all of them paled in comparison to Drusni.

That was startling, too. Startling, and sobering. Had he become so much a Qanska that even his memories of human friends and lovers paled against the Qanskan equivalents? Or was it simply that, in his shallow youthfulness, he'd chosen his lovers solely on the basis of superficial attractiveness of face and body?

Because Drusni was more that just that. Far more.

He lay awake for a long time after sundark, gazing into the darkness and trying to sort it all out in his mind. He and Drusni... but it wasn't as ridiculous as it sounded. Was it?

But even if it wasn't ridiculous, it wasn't going to be nearly as simple as it had been on Earth. He'd caught glimpses of other Breeder couples in the distance over the past few ninedays; had seen the complicated half-dance, half-synchronous swim ritual they'd done as they prepared for their bonding.

Trouble was, it was a ritual he had never learned. Either it had been taught back in the herd while he was off on one of his extended wanderings, or else it drew on some basic Qanskan instinct that his human mind simply didn't have.

But he couldn't approach her without it. Wouldn't approach her without it. When it was time to ask her, he wanted everything to be perfect.

And there was only one person to whom he could turn to for help and advice. Only one.

He suffered secretly through the long ninth-parts of the next day, striving for patience as he and Drusni and Pranlo swam and talked and ate together. But finally the gloom of sundark descended on them.

And as the other two fell silent and motionless, drifting to sleep on the winds, Raimey stole quietly off into the darkness.

Virtamco was also just settling down to sleep. "Yes?" he said, in that same gruffly neutral voice he always seemed to use when speaking to Raimey. "Do you want something?"

"I need a favor," Raimey said, trying to keep his voice steady. It was odd, he thought distantly, how little he'd truly appreciated Tigrallo when he was alive. He'd always thought of him as aloof and critical, more like a glorified nursemaid than anything else.

But now, with Virtamco to compare him against, Raimey realized that Tigrallo had been far more than just a keeper saddled with unpleasant duty. He'd been an adviser, and a guardian, and a companion.

And a friend.

"Yes?" Virtamco prompted impatiently. "Speak up, Breeder Manta."

"Counselor Latranesto said you would teach me those aspects of being a Qanska that I don't yet know," Raimey reminded him. "Well, there's something I need to know."

"Now?" Virtamco said, looking pointedly around at the gathering gloom. "Can't it wait until sunlight?"

"I don't think so," Raimey said. "I mean, no, it can't." He braced himself. "I need you to teach me the courtship ritual."

For a long moment Virtamco just stared at him. "You want what?" he asked at last, his tonals practically vibrating the sky with disbelief.

"I need you to teach me the courtship ritual," Raimey repeated, an uncomfortable feeling beginning to chew its way into his hopes and dreams. Virtamco's expression.... "Counselor Latranesto said you would teach me—"

"Are you making a bad joke?" Virtamco demanded.

Raimey jerked back. "No," he said. "No. But Latranesto said—"

"Why, you arrogant, foul-minded, little profaner," Virtamco bit out. "How dare you even think such a thing?"

Raimey had to fight hard to keep from flipping over and swimming away as fast as he possibly could. The sheer weight of the other's disapproval was like being hit in the face by a slashing wind swirl. "I— I—" he stammered.

"Get out of my sight," Virtamco roared, slapping his tails across his fins like he was trying to sweep something disgusting off of them. "Get away, you—you half-breed." He lunged at Raimey, his jaws snapping—

And with his soul wailing inside him, Raimey turned and fled.

He didn't know how long he swam, or even in what direction. All he could see was Virtamco's scandalized face; all he could hear was that horrible, condemning word.

Half-breed.

He would have cried if Qanska had been capable of tears. Half-breed. Because the Protector was right; that was exactly what he was. A half-Qanska, half-human mongrel. A scientifically created perversion of nature.

A monster.

And he'd dared to think Drusni would actually bond with him? Not only was he a monster, he was also a fool.

"Manta!" a voice called from somewhere behind him.

He tensed, his headlong rush suddenly faltering. That voice. Could it really be...?

No. His ears, and his mind, were playing tricks on him.

"Manta, wait up."

He turned around... and if his ears and mind were playing tricks, so were his eyes.

It was Drusni.

"Crosswinds, but you're fast," she panted as she came up to him. "What's going on? Another message from the people in the clouds?"

"No, I—" Raimey broke off, swallowing hard. This was it. He didn't know the proper methods, or the proper words, or the proper anything. But this was his chance. Maybe his only chance. "Drusni...

look, I don't know how to say this. I wish... but I don't. Maybe it doesn't matter."

She had gone very still. "Yes?" she asked softly.

Raimey braced himself. "Drusni... will you... will you bond with me?"

For a long moment she hovered motionlessly, only her fin tips undulating slowly to hold her position in the air. "Wow," she murmured at last. "I don't know what to..."

She took a deep breath. Raimey, for his part, held his. "I'm flattered, Manta," she said softly. "I really am. You're a wonderful person, and a good friend. We've been together a long time, and I love you a lot. If things were different..."

She stopped. "It's all right," Raimey said, feeling a hundred razor-edged Sivran teeth poised at the edges of his heart. "Go ahead."

She moved closer, resting her fin gently on top of his. "But the truth of it is," she said, the words coming out in a rush, "I've already agreed to bond with Pranlo."

Raimey turned away from her. Turned away from that earnest look; eased his skin away from that agonizingly warm touch. "Of course," he managed. "I should have guessed. Congratulations. Or whatever it is you say here."

"I'm sorry, Manta," Drusni said gently, and he could hear some of his own pain echoed in her voice.

"Really." She moved up close behind him and again laid her fin across his.

And as all those phantom Sivran teeth chewed their path of destruction across his heart, something inside him snapped. "Don't touch me," he snarled, slapping her fin violently away from his. "You're happy. Wonderful. Be happy. But be happy somewhere else."

"Please, Manta, don't do this," she pleaded. "If there was any other way—"

"But there isn't, is there?" he snarled. The pain in her voice was twisting though his heart, doubling the agony there. But he no longer cared about pain, or her, or himself. "So go. Go and be happy with Pranlo."

"Manta—"

"I said go!" he thundered, spinning around to glare at her. "I don't ever want to see you again. Ever!"

For a single heartpulse their eyes locked. The last view of those lovely eyes, Raimey knew, that he would ever have.

And then, with a choking sob, she flipped around and drove blindly away into the sundark.

He stared for a long time in the direction she had gone. Perhaps she would return, one last tendril of hope whispered to him. Perhaps after a time she would decide that he was the one she loved the most, and she would say good-bye to Pranlo.

But she didn't come back. As he'd known she wouldn't.

Eventually, he shook himself back to reality. The ninth-parts of the sundark were passing quickly, and soon all those in this part of Jupiter's sky would awaken and begin the day's activities.

He intended to be long gone before that happened.

He dove deep, not leveling off until he was nearly to the bottom of Level Four, as deep as he could force his body to go. Then, turning his left ear into the winds, he headed northward. Most of the Qanska, he knew, kept to the equatorial region of the planet, riding with the winds. Away from that relatively narrow band, there was a lot of unknown and presumably unexplored territory. Plenty of room to lose himself in.

And the sundark hadn't been a total waste. At least now he knew exactly what he was, and how he was perceived. And with that revelation, he also knew what his priorities had to be.

Hesse and Faraday had better get their lab tables cleared off and ready to go. Because one way or another, he was going to get them that stardrive.

And to the Deep with the Qanska. All of them.