Early Byrd by Phil Geusz Page A

lot of sympathy.
    Yet . . .
    I frowned as Rapput's hand gently pressed
down on me in what I knew was meant as a reassuring and even loving
gesture. Rapput had kidnapped us too, just as thoroughly as the
Rocky Mountain Free State. Yet somehow, despite his social gaffes
and lack of understanding of what made us humans tick, I couldn't
bring myself to hate him. By his own lights he'd treated us all,
especially Dad, with a degree of respect that in a conqueror
bordered on the remarkable. He'd also sworn to protect us, and I
hadn't the slightest doubt that he'd have fought like ten-thousand
wildcats had the elevator's fall not so seriously injured him.
    But then, Sam and Yukon had sworn to protect
us too, and . . . and . . .
    I rolled my eyes in the darkness and sighed.
Right and wrong sure was awfully hard to work out sometimes! Dad
had said teaching us ethics was his most important job and that he
was sorry he wouldn't be around to finish it. That was where we truly belonged, back on the ranch with Mom and Dad! But even
if a by a miracle we somehow were allowed to go back, someone else
would have to go with Rapput in our places. And knowing that would
be pretty terrible, too. So things couldn't be like they were
before. Not ever! No matter what !
    I slept in fits and starts all that night,
my dreams slithering like fat-bellied snakes through the spells of
wakefulness so that sometimes I wasn't sure which was which. Linda
had turned into Mother lying dead in her kitchen, and Sam was Dad
and Yukon was Rapput and I couldn't keep track of who meant what to
me anymore. All I wanted to do was cry, cry, cry. Tim's night
wasn't much better, from the snatches of weeping I caught on the
other side of the alien.
    I can't speak for anyone else, but I
actually felt worse when dawn finally broke than I had before lying
down. My muscles were stiff and achy, my nose was all stuffed up,
and my t-shirt soaked with cold, muddy ooze. "Please, sir," I asked
Rapput, whose good hand was still firmly clamped on my head. "Will
you let me up?"
    "Eergh!" he complained at first, making a
sound like a grizzly clearing its throat. Then his hand moved. "Of
course, beloved nephew." He smiled. "Was your night as awful as
mine?"
    "Worse, probably," I answered, sitting up
and looking across to where Tim had been. He was already up and
gone. "Thank you for keeping us warm."
    "Heh!" he answered. "That was the only good
part, actually." His smile faded. "You're aware our females aren't
. . . Cannot . . ."
    I nodded. "Yes, sir."
    "Then you should also know that as soon as
the nursing time ends, we take our male young from their mothers.
This is unpleasant for all involved, I fear, but necessary. If a
child is left too long, valuable months of learning speech and
similar advanced social skills are lost. Your kind is more flexible
than our own in this regard—if we fail to master language within a
certain developmental period, it becomes much more difficult and
sometimes even impossible later." His face fell. "Some of our most
ancient horror stories center on male children whom the females
successfully hide away, so that they grow up as little more than
especially cunning animals. Like their mothers." He shivered.
    "That's pretty terrible," I said.
    "Yes," he agreed, reaching out and
straightening my hair with a single claw. "Among we Artemu, the
ordinary household is made up of a group of brothers, or sometimes
cousins if they're few enough. We share the burden of raising our
sons equally with each other. So . . . as your uncle, I in many
ways will be as close to you as your father, whom you've yet to
meet. It's normal for us to sleep with our young as we did last
night, though you and your brother are a little old for it except
under special circumstances. For me, it was very much a . . .
bonding experience."
    I started to frown, but then caught myself.
"I don't even know yet how to properly address you, sir."
    "I've been waiting for you to ask. I'm
simply Rapput to