Vernor Vinge: The Children of the Sky

Ravna walked between rows of headstones set in a field of spongy moss. At the memorial, she’d noticed a few new stones, not just those for Edvi and the Norasndots. There’d been flowers on the graves of Belle Ornrikak and Dumpster Peli. The Children, at least some of those who remained with the Domain, were turning to older forms of remembrance. It was something they argued about among themselves.

Today—tonight—she had one particular person she wished to remember. Pham’s rock, the huge irregularly shaped boulder that crowned the promontory, was at the far end of the field. She could sit on the north side for a time, leaning against the sun-warmed rock.

She came around the rock—and was confronted by eight Tinish heads looking back at her.

“Ah! Hello, Amdi.”

“Hei, Ravna! What a coincidence.”

The pack occupied almost every flattish niche on the north side of the rock. Amdi had regained most of his weight, and nowadays he wore rakish eyepatches on two of his heads. He didn’t really seem surprised to see her. Of course, he probably had heard her coming from forty meters away.

Amdi shifted aside to make room for her on a human-butt-sized flat space.

As Ravna sat down, he said, “You up here to talk to Pham?” There was no sarcasm in his question.

Ravna nodded. I was. She looked down at Amdi’s nearest heads. He was already snuggling close. “What are you doing here, Amdi?”

“Oh, I come up here a lot now. You know, to sit and think.” Amdi was into solitary contemplation? Could he be that changed?

He settled a head in her lap and looked up at her. “Really! Well, today I had another reason. I was waiting for someone.”

She brushed her hand across the plush fur. “Am I that predictable?” So not a coincidence at all.

Amdi shrugged. “You’re somebody to depend on.”

“And why were you waiting for me?”

“Well,” he said mischievously, “I didn’t say you were the person I was waiting for.” But he didn’t deny it.

They sat there for a time, warming in the sun, watching its glare reflected off the chop in the straits. There really was peace here, even if it didn’t feel quite the same with Amdi above, below, and beside her. Amdi reached another head up to her. Petting it, she could feel a deep scar under the fur. It ran from the throat to just short of a fore-tympanum. So, more of Vendacious’ work. “Don’t worry,” said Amdi. “It’s all healed, good as new.”

“Okay.” But not his two eyes; those could not be fixed as easily as his other wounds or Ravna’s broken face.

Just now there wasn’t a single boat visible, and the country further north was lost in the glare. Ravna and Amdi might be the only human and pack in the world.

Correction. One of the kids’ gliders had drifted into view from the south. It had caught some marvelous air current and climbed halfway up the sky, angling around the curve of Starship Hill. As it turned to loop back it seemed to hang, motionless, in the sky.

Amdi poked a snout in the direction of the aircraft: “You know, that’s another reason why we need radio cloaks. A single pack member is way smaller than a human. It could fly fine, with all the rest on the ground—or on other gliders!”

Contemplative mood broken, Ravna grinned. “I remember my promise, Amdi; you’ll get your own radio cloaks. Scrupilo is working on that second set, but you know the problems. Vendacious did some very brutal things to create a pack that could use the cloaks.”

“But Flenser used the cloaks straight away,” said Amdi. That had been eleven years ago, at the Battle on Starship Hill. Ever since Amdi had been puppies—even before Ravna had met him—he had been wild about radio cloaks. She remembered his endless whining to be allowed to wear radio. Today he was more mellow: “We’ll figure it out. Just you wait, Ravna. Radio cloaks will make us packs be like gods! ”

“Hmm.” Amdi’s problem was his limited experience with real gods.

Amdi was chortling to himself. “And if we don’t do it, Tycoon will. You know, Mr. Radio is now his closest advisor—not counting Johanna.”

“Hei, Johanna is on our side.”

“‘Advisor,’ ‘friend,’ whatever. My point is, it’s Radio who is his closest Tinish advisor. He’s even more enthusiastic about cloaks than I am. He thinks that with clever broodkenning a tensome—maybe even a twelvesome—could have coherent intelligence.”

Twelve. Like Tycoon’s pack-of-packs logo. “Down Here there are other limits on mind, Amdi. You’re not going to get much above the most brilliant human genius, except in the Transcend.”

“Yes, okay, right. But the way radio packs can use their smarts will be amazing. Mr. Radio is already pretty smart. He’s back to eight. You know he found a replacement for Ut?”

This question was delivered with shy, almost embarrassed, sidewise looks.

“Ritl?” said Ravna. “She’s able to use Ut’s cloak?”

Amdi gave a nod. He was smiling in a wobbly way.

“Well, good! I mean, I know she caused you problems, Amdi. But the critter was desperate. She didn’t mean to do you harm.”

“Oh, she meant to do me harm all right! She tried to break me up. I was terrified of her. But yes, she was in a desperate situation. Part of me misses her, but all of me is relieved she’s gone. You know, she’s turned out to be the keystone member of Mr. Radio. She makes him smarter and a lot more articulate. I talk to Mr. Radio when he reaches up here. Now that Ritl is not on the make … well, Mr. Radio is really a nice fellow. The story of Ritl and Radio would make a nice Tinish romance novel … if I were into writing romance fiction, I mean. Which of course I’m not.”

Ravna looked around at him. Maybe he really had come up here to make peace with himself. “What about your own problems, Amdi?”

“I’ve … made progress. Being all puppies made me too human. I don’t know how you two-legs can deal with death. The version that packs suffer is bad enough.” Amdi was silent for a moment, mostly looking down. “Ritl made me see that I can’t stay me forever.” He look back up at her. “I learned from Vendacious, too. I learned that death can be the least of your problems. Fooling him wasn’t that hard, but after he started poking out my eyes … finding the courage to continue with my scheme, that was harder than anything I had ever imagined.”

He spoke the words softly, solemnly. Ravna noticed that every one of him was looking at her. It was as though a curtain had been drawn aside. Amdi had been to hell and back. That could happen to anyone with enough bad luck and then enough good luck—but Amdi had engineered his return. During his terrible time with Vendacious, the child in him had become something deep and quiet and strong.

Ravna nodded and gave him a pat. “So what’s next for you, Amdiranifani?”

Amdi looked away, and she sensed that his moment of stark openness had passed. He squirmed around for a moment, then said, “You and me and Jef had some good times, didn’t we?”

Okay, Amdi, and she replied in a like tone: “You mean when we weren’t running for our lives, and when Jefri and I weren’t playing at being enemies?”

“Yes. I would never be your enemy, and Jefri … well, you know Jefri loves you, don’t you?”

“You both loved me when you were little, Amdi.”

“I mean now, Ravna.”

That was what I was afraid you meant. Now it was her turn to look down at the ground, embarrassed. “Oh, Amdi, I—”

Amdi tightened up all around her. The one of him closest to her face tapped her cheek gently. “ Shh, ” Amdi’s voice whispered. “I hear someone coming.”