Sheri Tepper - Grass

“Damn it,” Tony interjected angrily. “Did you have to bring that up?”

Brother Mainoa gave him a long, measuring look. “Of course I did, young man. I don’t know where your sister is. I know the Hippae took her. I wasn’t at your reception, but I’ve heard about Janetta bon Maukerden showing up. I’ve talked with Jandra Jellico on the tell-me. I’ve heard what happens when the Hippae take young women, and you’ve seen it for yourself. Before we all risk our lives on something hideously dangerous, it’s best to know that we really want to, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hush, Tony,” said Father James to the angry boy. “The man is right.”

Rillibee/Lourai got up from his place by the wall and refilled their teacups. “They had Janetta for a long time. They’ve only had Stella since today.” He sounded more concerned than Marjorie had expected, in the light of Brother Mainoa’s comments.

Brother Mainoa nodded. “My colleague is right. There is hope that if we find Stella — assuming that is soon — she might not be… very different than she was when she vanished.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Father James said tiredly. “Even if we knew she would be like that other girl, if we have any chance of success we must still try to find her. Not if it means certain destruction, however. I will not allow that, Marjorie, so set the idea aside. We must have some hope of succeeding.”

“You’ve been out there, haven’t you?” Marjorie demanded of Brother Mainoa once more. “You’ve seen things and the Hippae haven’t killed you.”

“I had protection,” Brother Mainoa said. “Protection to go alone into the grass and look at things. I have no idea whether we can obtain protection to go into the grasses and look for someone. It might be better to let me try it alone.”

She shook her head. No. Not alone. She herself had to go. “Now, at once!”

“No. Not at once,” he cut her off. “Soon, but not at once. Since we returned from Opal Hill, Brother Lourai and I have been trying to make sense of that design you showed us. Many volumes of Arbai books have already been filed with the tell-me computers at Commons. They have a link with the network on Semling. Brother Lourai and I have been feeding in the designs carved on the doors and the houses. Within hours we may have some… some indication that there are correlations.”

“Is that more important than Stella’s life?” Marjorie was incredulous.

“It could be the key to Stella’s life,” he said patiently. “If the design in the Hippae cavern has meaning, if it seems they comprehend that meaning, perhaps it gives us a way to reach them. Wait here. It may be only an hour or two.”

It was less than an hour before the report came, peeping out of the tell-me into a portable link-reader that Brother Lourai had ready. When all the information had been recorded, Brother Mainoa pocketed the device and got hurriedly to his feet, summoning the others with a gesture. “I’ve skimmed over it. We won’t take time to study it now. Remember that we can see nothing helpful from the air. We must go on foot. And we must start from where Stella started. The bon Damfels estancia.” He turned toward the door, leaving his other papers on the table behind him.

“Not on foot,” Marjorie contradicted him as she put her still-damp cloak around her. “No, Brother Mainoa. We can do better than that. We’ll go on horseback.”

Rigo had gone first into the house for a drink. After a few glasses of the excellent brandy Roald Few had provided, Rigo had gone to look for his family, not finding Marjorie or Tony or even Father James when he went down to the priests’ house. Father Sandoval told him they had gone.

“To the Arbai dig, I think I heard Father James say. Marjorie thinks there may be some help there.”

“Help for what?” Rigo snarled, angered that he had not been asked to go along.

“To find Stella,” the old priest said. “For what other reason?”

“Does she think I have no interest in that?” Rigo demanded. “Doesn’t she think I care?”

Father Sandoval struggled to find something that would calm Rigo’s anger. “I haven’t talked to Marjorie, Rigo. I know only what Father James told me.”

Rigo snarled again wordlessly and left the old priest while he, Rigo, wandered aimlessly in the garden, cursing to himself. When his feet brought him to Eugenie’s house, he went in, telling himself he would stay only for a short time. He wanted to be in his own room when Marjorie returned. Still, Marjorie had gone some distance, so there was no hurry. He began to unburden himself to Eugenie, telling her many things to which she murmured sympathetically without paying any attention at all.

She poured him another drink, and then several more. Rigo grew at first angrier, then sad and maudlin. He wept, and she comforted him. They found their way into the summer bedroom. Neither of them heard the aircar return in the middle hours of the night.

Father James, who had done some show riding in his youth, saddled Millefiori, the most spirited of the mares, while Marjorie, who had already saddled Don Quixote for herself and El Dia Octavo for Tony, urged Brothers Mainoa and Lourai to help her with Her Majesty and Blue Star. These two were graceful and elegant mares with habits of calm good sense. “You’ll ride these two, Brothers. All you need to do is sit on top and relax. The horses will do the rest.”

Brothers Mainoa and Lourai looked at one another in embarrassed surmise. Rillibee had ridden something a few times in his childhood, ridden at a slow walk, with someone leading the horse or donkey or whatever it had been. Brother Mainoa could not remember ever having touched a riding animal of any kind before. Marjorie had no time to reassure them. She was busy at the top of a short stepladder, putting a saddle on the great draft horse, Irish Lass.

“Who’s going to ride that?” Rillibee/Lourai asked.

“Irish Lass will carry most of our supplies. And Stella can ride her, when we find Stella.”

When we find her, Father James thought quietly to himself. If. If we find her. He had not gone back to the house he shared with Father Sandoval. He had not told the older priest he was going on this wild venture. It would be easier to ask forgiveness later than to seek permission now, permission which he would not receive.

“I have to go out into the grass for a while before we leave,” Brother Mainoa said. “Something I need to do if we want to get where we’re going.”

Marjorie stared at him, eager to be off and yet aware of what dangers lay out there. “Is it necessary?”

“If we’re going to get to bon Damfels in one piece, yes.” She gestured, biting her lip. “Hurry. If you can.” Then she stood looking after him into the darkness, wondering what he was up to.

Tony came into the stables with a pile of things which he set down on the floor, announcing, “These have to be sorted out. There’s food and some equipment. I have to make another trip.”

“Father James?” Marjorie indicated the pile. “Is there anything that we need that Tony hasn’t found?” She leaned wearily against the flank of the huge horse, asking Tony, “Did you tell your father where we’re going?”

“I didn’t find Father,” Tony reported. “I went through the house.”

“Leave him a message on the tell-me,” Marjorie said, relieved that Rigo was not shouting at them, telling them they could not go. He was probably with Eugenie, but it wouldn’t be appropriate for Tony to seek him there. “Leave him a note, Tony. Tell him we’ve gone looking for Stella, that we’ve taken the horses.”

“I did,” the boy replied. “I already did that.”

“Water bottles,” said the priest. “First aid supplies.”