Stardogs by Dave Freer Page B

recent and transient history. I want find out what he has learnt from his Stardog about the Denaari. It’s a line of research that has never been pursued.”
    It shocked obviously shocked the young Leaguesman to have the League described like that. His fellow Leaguesman also stood open mouthed, and nearly dropped his drink.
    Liton smiled at her, however. A trusting, disarming smile. It was one of the reasons the League kept riders from the general populace, apparently. She didn’t even notice. “I lip-read quite well, my Lady,” he said. Shahjah was near. He was brave. He didn’t even stutter. “If you speak slowly.” He carefully turned so that he could not see the Leaguesman. The only way for the Leaguesman to interrupt the conversation now would be to rudely step in front of the Princess’s companion.
    The woman, absorbed in her questioning, did not even notice his actions. “What does your Stardog remember about the Denaari?” she asked. The rest of the group’s conversations had died away, leaving this centre-stage.
    Liton shrugged. This was safe to answer. “The Stardogs remember them. The Stardogs are not clever, you understand, Ma’am. But they don’t forget. They loved them. They were very lonely until we came.”
    “Hmm. So how long ago did these loved ones leave?” the woman asked.
    “About three thousand five hundred of their years back,” Liton replied drawing the knowledge from Shahjah.
    The little woman flushed with excitement even through the plaster of make-up foundation. “Excellent! That’ll give Hargreaves something to put in his pipe and smoke.” Her head bobbed forward in an oddly predatory movement, “But wait! Their years. What are their years? Do they measure time accurately?”
    Liton nodded, quite entranced by interest. “Very accurately M’lady. They need to, to navigate. And they have perfect memories. They’re just… not very clever. Their year is longer than Phillipia, and shorter than Nekrat. It is hard to explain. They use solar-revolutions to measure years. They don’t understand days and nights.”
    But his answer had her rivetted. “The Denaari motherworld! It must be the orbital period of the motherworld! Do they know on which world they were made?”
    He shook his head. “Shahjah, my Stardog, was born, not made.”
    She shook her head dismissively. “Silbersohn and Ohnasha proved that that is impossible. The Stardogs were plainly the product of a species far in advance of ours in genetic engineering. The gene structure….”
    He was angered. He shared to some imperfect extent Shahjah’s memories. He remembered her birth. “No!” he burst out. The way she straightened and pulled away he knew he had spoken too loudly. “No. She was born. She could also have pups of her own!”
    The strange glasses-magnified eyes bored into him. “Where are the pups, then? Why are there none now? And where is their homeworld?”
    “Lady Tanzo. Leave off grilling the menial. We need you for a fourth for bridge.” There was no ignoring a summons from Princess Shari.
    With an, “I’ll speak to you later,” the dumpy little matron turned away and left the rider. He was relieved. He had no answers to give her.
    A rough hand took him by the shoulder, turned him from the window. He found himself facing not one, but two angry Leaguesmen. The angular man signed furiously, his hands clumsy with haste and anger. “Your dog be whipped. Food rations be cut. Your dog …”
    “If you don’t mind, Leaguesman Kadar, I shall handle this,” said the Wienan. Liton could not hear the tone, but he could feel the hauteur. “This is my rider. I shall deal with him.”
    Johannes Wienan faced Liton again. His hands flickered, as he signed with more skill than the angular man, “Your Stardog is old…you say. Do not endanger her by speaking to the woman again. That is all. Sit until it is time for you to go out.” Somehow he had far more power to frighten than the angular man. Liton