those people all kinds of
things about her," Kayden said.
"Tell you what. We'll let whoever's in
charge, know about you. Meanwhile she gets a free ride." They began
to work the stall out.
"Why did you bring a Ming-thraw to this
station?" the duty free woman asked, a shadowy line formed between
her eyes. He examined the fresh face, searched it for a ripple of
real feeling.
"She thought I'd know where to look. I
figured the Koalakins would come here. I was sure, sure hers'd be
here." He took a breath. "I used to hunt her kind. She caught me.
Injured my leg. I stayed with her a long time and learned her ways.
Left her alone after a while."
"When I saw you taking them, I thought
you might be—putting something in them or that something might
already be inside them, smuggling perhaps. I warned a purchaser and
one of the Koalakins was returned. Maybe that one was hers?" She
collected the scattered Koalakins, handled them as if they were
fragile.
"You knew I was taking them; why didn't
you report me?"
"I did. There is nowhere to hide on
Habitat."
"She knew it'd be dead. We just wanted
to do the right thing by it. I owed her that," he said. He
approached the cage, looked in, and motioned for one of the men to
open it up.
"Go ahead," said the one in
charge.
They'd set the temperature for her,
condensation creating a soft fog. The Ming-thraw lay quietly, still
sedated. He lifted her arm and tucked the Koalakin she'd been
clutching back into place.
"Can't linger. That's the ship." The
man nodded toward the forward arc, to the docked Shadow Hunter.
"Got to hook up with an Earth transfer in thirty
minutes."
Kayden stood back. They closed the
door. He had just enough money for one passage on the Shadow
Hunter. He glanced around the duty free.
The Koalakins lay neatly on the black
desk. He went over to them. The young woman was wiping the floor.
He rested the cane against the edge of the table and quickly
stuffed the creatures into his pockets.
He grabbed his cane.
"Did she have a name?" the clerk called
to him.
"Yes," he said, and pulled the rubber
tip from the metal stick. He played its tip across the glistening
surface of the floor, creating a delicate patina.
She gave him a sad smile. Her eyes
flicked to the empty table.
"I hope you've found what you're
looking for," she said.
He nodded. "I have." He replaced the
rubber tip, leaned for a moment against the desk, looked out at the
Shadow Hunter, and wondered what it would be like on
Earth.
END
Chronos’ Christmas
Any minute, two more kids
would be arriving at Daycare. Two replacements at once. That was unusual.
Normally we arrived one at a time. Two would give us a small
advantage over Deemi’s Daycare unit, but I’d already decided not to
keep them both. I’d give one to Deemi. That would make for fair
play, and I figured that this year my unit could still beat Deemi’s
to Christmas.
Three of us sat in different corners of
the large activity room, across from Ceep who filled an entire wall
of the pentagonal room. Except for his flashing red eye and the
blue glow from his vidscreen, we waited in the dark; it was better
for the arrivals of the replacements, less of a shock for
them.
I could hear Snuks sucking her thumb,
and I tried to see where she was hiding. She must have noticed,
because she leaned out of the shadows and into the vidscreen’s blue
glow, looking eerie. Her round eyes made contact with
mine.
Ceep’s red eye, located at the other
end of the room where Geebo waited, became a steady red.
“They’re coming,” I said to the
others.
“Chronos?”
It was Ceep. “Here,” I
answered.
“Stand by for replacement 1313M and
replacement 1315M, both chronological four.”
“Double chrono four?” I asked. I
thought that was strange. I went over to Ceep and touched him for a
pause and repee. He repeated, and I’d heard the computer correctly.
Chrono fours, two of them.
Snuks, Geebo and I had all arrived when we were five, and as far as
I knew