The Children of the Sky

“Oh, it is.” Woodcarver warbled some more, probably “looking up” definitions. “Without adequate process control, the ‘drip’ normally turns into something called a ‘conversion torrent.’ That’s destroyed more than one civilization. Fortunately for most histories, it’s very difficult to create before you know the danger of it.” She queried some more. “Oh good. That was last tenday. Scrupilo dropped the project, took the path of sanity for once. What he’s doing now looks like the materials research he’s supposed to be doing.” There was pause, then a human-sounding chuckle. “Scrupilo will throw a personal riot when we take those cameras from him. It will be fun to see.” The science advisor was another of Woodcarver’s offspring packs. They had turned out to be Woodcarver’s own dangerous experiments.

Ravna was doing her best to think sneaky: “I bet we can keep the diversion a secret. Two or three of them could officially ‘break.’” Very few of the locals understood what was durable and what was not. Over the years, she had broken all but one of her head-up displays, but the low-tech cams could probably survive a twenty-meter fall. “Scrupilo won’t have to disguise his outrage, just the details of the affair.”

“I like that!” Woodcarver gave a rippling grin, and one of her on a high perch gave Ravna a pat on the head. She spoke some notes to Oobii. “Okay, let’s take three cameras. We should think on where and how to best use them.”

“I want this done quickly. The word is out that I’ve been tipped off. If someone’s behind this, then wouldn’t they move now, to keep us off balance?”

“Just so.”

Three cameras scarcely made a surveillance system, no matter how cleverly they were placed. Ravna decided to ask directly about the others. “What about the three that you’re already using to spy on Flenser? It’s humans who are the greatest threat just now.”

“No. Those stay in place. If there really is a conspiracy here, then I’d bet a champion conspirator is behind it, not one of your naive Children. Flenser is as devious as any creature alive.” And Old Flenser had been another of Woodcarver’s offspring packs, the deadliest—if not the most malevolent—of her attempts at creating genius.

“But this is the reformed Flenser. Only two of his pack are still from you.”

Woodcarver sounded a loud sniff. “So? Old Flenser chose the other three…”

“It’s been ten years.”

“We get along. The three cameras I’ve hidden down in Old Castle, they give me reason to … well, ‘trust’ is not the right word … to tolerate him.”

Ravna smiled. “You’re always complaining that he knows where you’re watching him.”

“Um. I suspect he knows. Always suspect him, Ravna. Then you won’t be disappointed. Maybe … if I can get my people into the castle, we could move the cameras around. I’ve been wanting to do that anyway. Flenser must remain at the top of the suspects list. I don’t want those cameras diverted to anything less likely.”

“Very well.” The Original Flenser had been a scary beast, combining extremes of human history. Ravna would have been as paranoid about Flenser as Woodcarver was if she didn’t have her own special source of information. That source was one the very few secrets that she’d never told anyone, not even Johanna. She wasn’t going to reveal it now just to pry three cameras away from her co-Queen.

One of Woodcarver bumped up against Ravna’s chair and set its paw on her arm. “You’re disappointed?”

“I’m sorry. Yes, a little. We’ve freed up three cameras. Surely there are more targets.”

“And I’ll look at Flenser still more carefully than before.”

Ravna couldn’t respond to that, not without revealing her own source of information.

“Look, Ravna. In addition to the cameras, I’ll bring in some of my agents from the outlands. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Woodcarver was really trying to be cooperative. More than any pack except Scrupilo, she seemed to understand what drove Ravna.

The human reached out to pat the nearest of Woodcarver. This was Sht—hei, that’s what the name sounded like to human ears. Member names were normally little more then broodkenner tags, mostly meaningless even to Tines. Little Sht was just a few tendays old, a necessary addition in the careful balancing of youth and old age that was a coherent pack. This baby was so young that it had only basic sensory sharing with the rest of Woodcarver. Beyond that, all Ravna knew was that the puppy was not the biological get of any in Woodcarver or Pilgrim. In dealing with Tines, puppies were often a problem, especially if a pack’s lifegrooming was careless. Woodcarver had done much better with her own soul than with her offspring packs; she had maintained a steady purpose for nearly six hundred years. Ravna shouldn’t have to worry. She petted the small creature’s fine dense pelt and felt comforted. Hei, if there was a change it might be like the congenial evolution that Woodcarver had engineered for herself in the past.

Chapter   07