Joan Vinge - The Snow Queen

She moved on more confidently to the leather-winged reptile with a head like a pickax; the feather-soft oblongs with no heads at all; the bird with emerald plumage and ruby crest that lay listlessly in the bottom of its cage. She lost track of time or any purpose beyond the need to communicate even to the smallest degree with every creature, and earn for herself the reward of its embryonic trust… Until she reached the end of the circuit at last, found the little boy lying asleep on Blodwed’s knee, and Blodwed staring up at her in silent envy.

Moon glanced away, understanding the look in one final moment of empathy. “I — I’m ready to begin Transfer, Blodwed; whenever you say.”

“How did you do that?” Blodwed’s words struck her like blows. “Why do they come to you, and not to me? They’re my pets! They’re supposed to love me!” The boy woke at the sound of her anger, and began to cry.

“That should be obvious,” Gundhalinu muttered sourly. “She treats animals like human beings, and you treat human beings like animals.”

Blodwed stood up furiously, and Gundhalinu stiffened; but no words came out of her, and she did not bring up her white-knuckled fists to strike him.

“Blodwed… they’re afraid of you. Because…” Moon struggled, fitting reluctant words to her thoughts. “Because you’re afraid of them.”

“I’m not afraid of them! You were afraid of them.”

Moon shook her head. “Not that way. I mean… I’m not afraid to let them see I care about them.” She twisted a braid.

Blodwed’s mouth worked, her scowl faded. “Well, I feed them, I do everything for them! What else am I supposed to do?”

“Learn to be — gentle with them. Learn that… that gentleness isn’t… weakness.”

The little boy clung to Blodwed’s leg, still crying. She looked down at him, put her hand on his head hesitantly, before she followed Moon back to the cages.

Moon began the circuit again with the brain creature, luring it into her hands, making it the focus of her senses. “Ask me about them. Input—” She heard Blodwed’s question and carried it down…

“…analysis!” She found herself sitting on the floor, exhausted, with the snub-nosed elf fox cub suckling her braid. She smoothed its thick white crest, removed the braid from its mouth and its pinprick claws from her tunic with great care, held it out to Blodwed in both hands. “Here,” faintly, “take him.”

Blodwed reached out, uncertainty slowing her movements; the cub did not struggle or protest as Moon slipped it into her waiting hands. Blodwed settled it against her stomach, held it there almost timidly. She giggled as it worked its way in through the opening of her parka and settled against her side. The toddler sat at her feet reaching up after it with one hand, his thumb in his mouth.

“Did I tell you — enough?” Moon glanced away, along the circle of bare cages, still overlaid by the shadowy green and gold of an imported-pet shop somewhere on another world. So far away… all of us so far away from home.

“Lissop, starls, batwing…” Blodwed named them all. “I guess I even know what’s wrong with those,” pointing. “I don’t have the right food.” Her face pulled down. “But you did good,” encouraging again. She held the cub close. “Didn’t she, Blue?”

Gundhalinu smiled, grudgingly, and made a salute. “A noble—” He broke off.

Three pairs of eyes looked up together at the sound of someone else entering the passageway. The gate swung open, and a bearded, heavy-faced man entered. The animals shrank back along the walls.

“What do you want, Taryd Roh?” The surliness was back in Blodwed’s voice.

“The shaman wants this fixed.” He held out a fragile-looking instrument that Moon did not recognize. “Tell the Tech there to get started earning his keep.”

“He’s too sick.” Blodwed stuck out her chin.

“He’s alive,” Taryd Roh grinned, swiveling his gaze to Moon. “And this pretty little doll you brought him would put life back in the dead. How’d you like to visit my tent, little sibyl?” A rough hand brushed her bruised cheek, hurting her.

Moon backed away, filled with disgust. He laughed and went on past her.

“Listen, Turd,” Blodwed said, “you keep away from her! She really has the power—”

He sneered. “Then what’s she doing here? You don’t believe that superstitious crap, do you, Tech?” He set the broken instrument down in front of Gundhalinu, and a set of tools. “Just don’t have too much fun. Because if this isn’t working by tomorrow, I’ll make you eat it.” He flicked the tarnished insignia on Gundhalinu’s collar; Moon saw Gundhalinu’s thin face go gray and slack.

Taryd Roh turned away from him, strolled back across the chamber to the gate like a killer skule moving through a fish trap.

Blodwed threw an obscene hand-sign after his retreating back. “Gods, I hate him, that bastard!” She winced as the elf fox pup woke inside her jacket, squirming and scratching. “He thinks he’s the Prime Minister or something, just because he’s Ma’s favorite. He’s been to Carbuncle, and he’s crazy too — that’s why she likes him so much.”

Moon watched Gundhalinu stretch out on the cot, moving like an aged cripple, and turn his face to the wall. She said nothing.

Blodwed pulled the wriggling cub out of her parka and thrust it back into its cage, almost angrily. Moon felt Blodwed search the room with her eyes for something that had disappeared; she kept her own eyes on Gundhalinu. Blodwed dragged the babbling baby to his feet and went out the gate, leaving them to smother in silence.

Moon made her way through the heaviness of the air to Gundhalinu’s side, kneeled down. “BZ?” Knowing that he did not want her to ask, knowing that she had to. She touched his shoulder. She felt the trembling of his body even through his heavy coat. “BZ…”

“Leave me alone.”

“No.”

“I’m not one of her animals, for gods’ sakes!”

“Neither am I. Don’t shut me away!” Her fingers dug into his ] arm, forcing him to acknowledge her.

He rolled onto his back, lay staring up at her with bleak eyes. ‘ “And I didn’t think things could get any worse.”

Moon looked down, nodded. “Then maybe they’ll start getting I better.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Don’t tell me there’s going to be a ‘ future. Just facing tomorrow is all I can stand.”

She saw the broken instrument that Taryd Roh had left for him I on the ground beside her knee. “You can’t fix this?”

“Blindfolded,” with a broken smile. He lifted his hand. “If I had ‘ll two good hands. But I don’t.”

“You have three.” Moon clasped his hand like a pledge.

He brought his other hand up, laid it clumsily over hers. “I thank you.” He took a long breath, and sat up. “Taryd Roh…” he swallowed. “Taryd Roh caught me re circuiting Blodwed’s radio. After he’d finished working me over, I couldn’t walk for two days. And gods, he enjoyed it.” He ran his hand through his hair; Moon saw it tremble again. “I don’t know what he did while he was in the city — but he was good at it.”

Moon shuddered, wiped the memory of Taryd Roh’s touch from her face. “Is that — why?” She glanced at his hands, his scarred wrists.

“Everything! Everything was why.” He shook his head. “I’m a highborn, a Tech, a Kharemoughi! To be treated like a slave by these savages — worse than a slave! No one with any pride would go on living that way: without honor, without hope. So I tried to do the only honorable thing.” He said it with perfect evenness. “But Blodwed found me, before it was — finished.”

“She saved you?”