Read Online Cuckoo's Egg by C. J. Cherryh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. J. Cherryh
Tags: Fiction
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the way of their last moments with it, his and Duun's. He knew why Duun wanted them away. But Duun would not tell them no, and walked without looking at things like trees and stones, as Duun had looked about him before they came. Without talking to him. Duun was bitter. Duun hurt. Thorn knew it. (My fault. My doing. All of it. They should take me and go away and Duun would still have his mountain.) But no one offered Thorn that choice. Perhaps it did not exist.
Down and down, the last little distance to the flat, around the last turning of the road.
A machine sat in the meadow; it had huge blades. It had flattened a circle all around itself in the milky green grass. There were broad dusty roads that met there, and people stood there at that crossing, far removed.
"We've kept them off," said a man who had not spoken before. Only not a man like the Duun, like Ellud, like the meds. This one was broader-hipped, walked differently, had a quiet, smaller voice. Woman, Thorn thought, hearing that, and his heart picked up its beats.
("Women are," Duun had told him, when he was small, "us and different.")
("How different?" Thorn asked.)
("Inside. Outside, in some things. They have a place inside they make babies. Men put them there; women make them.") ("How? child-Thorn asked. " That does it," Duun said, and showed him what this was. "I haven't got that," Thorn had said, looking at himself.
"Duun, I haven't got that. Mine's all outside.") ("You're different," Duun had said.)
("Am I a woman?")
("No," Duun said. "You're a child. You're going to be a man.") 64
Cuckoo's Egg
("How do women make babies?' ")
Duun had not answered then. Or he had forgotten. Thorn knew the answer later. ("See this," Duun had said. Showed him the young inside a deiggen Thorn had killed. "They're babies. You ought not to kill the does. See the eartips. Don't hunt that kind.")
Thorn remembered that. But he had gotten a deiggen-baby out of its womb and laid it out on a flat rock to see it. It was not the death he remembered strongest, or the blood. It was that it had had no hair, was naked-skinned like him.
(I was born and grew wrong. They got me out too soon.) He watched the foenin mate. ( That's how? He was appalled and interested at once in the black bodies one on the other's back, the curious spasms they made as if one of them were sick.)
("Shonun do it face to face, usually," Duun said. Thorn was twice appalled. It was odd enough to do from the rear. Having someone watching back right in one's face—)
This— woman— had a gun on her hip. She swayed when she walked. She had a bright white crest but she had shaved it far back as did all the cityfolk, not like Duun's, which was black and long and swung freely when he walked.
Thorn thought of the foenin. Clenched his hand to drive that thought away.
He had made enough difficulty for Duun. It was not spring. It was not appropriate. There was something about smell, but Duun refused to discuss this with him.
They walked out onto the flat toward the machine and foenin blurred in the waft of oil and warm metal. The copter. They would go up in the air in that. It looked too heavy. Thorn forgot about women. His heart began to beat in terror. (Fool, he told himself. Duun had warned him. The thing had gotten here, it would get away again with them inside. He would not be afraid in front of strangers. He would not stink of fear where others not 65
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scent-blind could smell it. He would not shame Duun. I will beat you, Duun had said, to get his attention; now Thorn remembered that and knew why Duun had threatened him. Not to be shamed by him. He would not flinch when they led him in.)
* * *
It was the countryfolk Duun watched, the spectators the guards had kept far off on the other road. He kept his ears aslant, shutting out what words the wind might bring him. He smelled the scent of them even at this range.
His mind painted him hate; and fear. He was a fool to shut down his hearing;
Down and down, the last little distance to the flat, around the last turning of the road.
A machine sat in the meadow; it had huge blades. It had flattened a circle all around itself in the milky green grass. There were broad dusty roads that met there, and people stood there at that crossing, far removed.
"We've kept them off," said a man who had not spoken before. Only not a man like the Duun, like Ellud, like the meds. This one was broader-hipped, walked differently, had a quiet, smaller voice. Woman, Thorn thought, hearing that, and his heart picked up its beats.
("Women are," Duun had told him, when he was small, "us and different.")
("How different?" Thorn asked.)
("Inside. Outside, in some things. They have a place inside they make babies. Men put them there; women make them.") ("How? child-Thorn asked. " That does it," Duun said, and showed him what this was. "I haven't got that," Thorn had said, looking at himself.
"Duun, I haven't got that. Mine's all outside.") ("You're different," Duun had said.)
("Am I a woman?")
("No," Duun said. "You're a child. You're going to be a man.") 64
Cuckoo's Egg
("How do women make babies?' ")
Duun had not answered then. Or he had forgotten. Thorn knew the answer later. ("See this," Duun had said. Showed him the young inside a deiggen Thorn had killed. "They're babies. You ought not to kill the does. See the eartips. Don't hunt that kind.")
Thorn remembered that. But he had gotten a deiggen-baby out of its womb and laid it out on a flat rock to see it. It was not the death he remembered strongest, or the blood. It was that it had had no hair, was naked-skinned like him.
(I was born and grew wrong. They got me out too soon.) He watched the foenin mate. ( That's how? He was appalled and interested at once in the black bodies one on the other's back, the curious spasms they made as if one of them were sick.)
("Shonun do it face to face, usually," Duun said. Thorn was twice appalled. It was odd enough to do from the rear. Having someone watching back right in one's face—)
This— woman— had a gun on her hip. She swayed when she walked. She had a bright white crest but she had shaved it far back as did all the cityfolk, not like Duun's, which was black and long and swung freely when he walked.
Thorn thought of the foenin. Clenched his hand to drive that thought away.
He had made enough difficulty for Duun. It was not spring. It was not appropriate. There was something about smell, but Duun refused to discuss this with him.
They walked out onto the flat toward the machine and foenin blurred in the waft of oil and warm metal. The copter. They would go up in the air in that. It looked too heavy. Thorn forgot about women. His heart began to beat in terror. (Fool, he told himself. Duun had warned him. The thing had gotten here, it would get away again with them inside. He would not be afraid in front of strangers. He would not stink of fear where others not 65
Cuckoo's Egg
scent-blind could smell it. He would not shame Duun. I will beat you, Duun had said, to get his attention; now Thorn remembered that and knew why Duun had threatened him. Not to be shamed by him. He would not flinch when they led him in.)
* * *
It was the countryfolk Duun watched, the spectators the guards had kept far off on the other road. He kept his ears aslant, shutting out what words the wind might bring him. He smelled the scent of them even at this range.
His mind painted him hate; and fear. He was a fool to shut down his hearing;
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