Playing God(15)

As soon as Praeis emerged from the shuttle, the rain spattered hard against her scalp and ears. The lovely, flowing sarong that she had worn expressly to show her sisters that exile did not mean beggary, began to stick to her shoulders, belly guard, and torso. She closed her first eyelid and surveyed the world through the film of the membrane.

The ramp to the ground was a smooth, slick affair that Humans could manage. All of them got to the ground without falling, however, and she felt strangely triumphant. She'd made it. She stood upright with her firstborn daughters on the ground of her home.

Theiareth waved her ears, spat energetically, and ground the spittle into the payement with her heel. “Bless this ground of my Great Family!”

“Very pious, Theia, but we're holding up the line.” Resaime yanked her sister to one side so a single female Human followed by a pair of smoky blue near-family sisters could get past.

Theiareth cuffed her sister's shoulder. “You're so excited you're panting, Res, so don't teach at me.”

Resaime closed her open mouth and looked up at Praeis. “Where are we going?”

Praeis narrowed her nostrils against the rain and looked sharply around. She'd hoped either her sisters or the Queens would send an escort, but she saw no sign of one.

The familiarity of the place reassured her, though. This was really an airport which had been adapted for spacegoing use, as the t'Therians had no civilian space capabilities and only extremely limited military ones. She could just see the towers and “guns” of the satellite launcher. The Humans were busy putting up new buildings left and right, but it was still mostly the port she had left with a dozen refugees in a Human mercenary's cramped, dirty ship. None of them ever expected to come back, least of all Praeis Shin.

The shuttle's passengers, some of them Bioverse advisors, some of them returning refugees, made their way down the ramps to mix with passengers from the few military and civilian planes that dotted the cement. They picked their way between clusters of booths whose owners, most of them stripped down to their belly guards for the rain, shouted about cheap transport, clean lodging, the ability to find anyone anywhere, reasonable rates! Fresh food! Clean water! Homecoming gifts for your mother, your sisters! Immunity!

Praeis's ears jerked at that and swiveled to focus on the voice.

“Immunity! Immunity from joint rot and fever, all sorts! Guaranteed!” Praeis's nostrils closed and opened again. More than one of the boothers were shouting similar promises. Paying customers clustered around them. The plague was good business for some.

Battered motor skids, pedal cars, and carts drawn by long-necked alar or huge, blocky oena waited in a ragged curve beyond the booths, along with a few of the gleaming, enclosed vans the Humans used for themselves.

Over it all stood the soldiers in their watchtowers. They wore pearlescent body armor and brown boots, and all kept their eyes and ears fixed on the crowd, even though their guns were at rest Their pale skin, more grey than blue, declared them all to be t'Smeras. Technically, the port was on their land, and the paper peace gave them the right to defend it. Praeis noted with quiet satisfaction that their armament was no stronger than needed for normal security work. There were no shields up, no signs of heavy weapons. Things for the moment must be fairly peaceful, probably no more than the usual skirmishes on the borders with the t'Ciereth and the t'lanain.

With the relocation due to start soon, even those might have stopped. Everybody might be too busy trying to prepare themselves to be moved onto the city-ships. She'd hear the defense status from her sisters, but until then she could allow herself to hope.

Praeis dropped her gaze back to the port in time to see a cluster of three sisters shuffle through the crowd, leading a father swaddled in a thick blue jacket. His ears lay flat back against his skull, and he sniffed the air restlessly as they pulled him forward.

Praeis bowed briefly as the sisters and the father passed. A small wind stirred, and she caught his rich scent. So did her daughters. Theiareth's nostrils widened in surprise. The father touched Theiareth's shoulder, pawing her briefly and staring with vacant, soulless eyes. The sisters pulled his hand back, murmured their apologies, and led him away.

Theiareth gripped the place where he had touched her and swallowed hard.

“Are you good?” asked Praeis. “That was not expected.”

“I'm good.” Theiareth's skin rippled uneasily. “I'm fine.”

“You look like you're about to vomit,” announced Resaime.

“Thank you for bringing that to our attention, Resaime,” said Praeis.

Theiareth was staring after the father with a mix of horror and fascination in her eyes. Praeis took hold of Theiareth's chin and pulled on it gently but firmly, until Theia was looking straight at her. “It is a natural part of life, Theia, and one day it's going to be me and you.”