Free Far-Seer by Robert J. Sawyer Page A

waddled over to the surgical table. “Then let me try.”
    Darkness…
    And a sound.
    Music?
    Yes, music. A ballad: The Voyage of Larsk.
    So beautiful. Compelling.
    He sailed to the east,
    River’s waters tossing his boat,
    A steady wind,
    And, at last, rising from the waves…
    Rise up to the music.
    No. Sleep.
    Yes! Awake!
    But the darkness is so warm, so inviting…
    Can’t give in to it.
    Wake up! Break out into the light.
    So difficult, like cracking through an eggshell without a birthing horn.
    Better to sleep, to relax, to rest.
    So tired.
    No…
    No!
    Force the outer eyelids open. Light filters through the inner membranes. An effort, such an effort: open those, too.
    Such beautiful music.
    “Dy-bo…”
    The prince stopped singing and thumped his tail in joy. “Afsan, you plugged earhole! I knew you wouldn’t leave us.”
    Afsan managed to click his teeth together weakly. “Finish the song.”
    Dybo leaned back on his tail. And sang some more.

*9*
    Afsan and Dybo walked down the cobblestone streets of Capital City.
    “You were amazing!”
    Afsan bowed slightly. “I did only what needed to be done.”
    “Nonsense! It’s the talk of the city, and I hear the newsriders are having a great time with it. No one has ever seen such skill, such innovation, on a first hunt.”
    “You are too kind.”
    “And that lanky palace butcher — what’s his name?”
    “Pal-Cadool.”
    “Cadool, yes. Every time he brings me food, he asks about that hunt. It’s funny listening to him. He’s intimidated by my station, but he can’t help but ask about your kill. He keeps saying he wishes he had been there to see it. I’ve told him three times now about you shimmying up that endless neck, ripping out the thunderbeast’s throat. He loves the story!”
    “And no doubt it gets better with each retelling,” Afsan said lightly.
    “No, this tale needs no embellishment. I thought we were doomed.”
    “Well,” said Afsan, “Cadool probably misses the organized hunt. After all, most of his time is spent simply slaughtering animals in the stockyards. A true ritual hunt is a rare thing. I understand that most people only participate once a kiloday or so. And I wouldn’t doubt that Cadool gets to do so even less often, given his palace responsibilities.”
    Dybo slapped his belly in good humor. “Well, that’s true enough. Feeding me is a full-time job!”
    Clicked teeth. “Exactly.”
    “Still, it’s not just Cadool who’s impressed. Even Tetex admits that she had overestimated her skill in taking on that monster. When I become Emperor, I should make you leader of the imperial hunt!”
    Afsan stopped dead, his jaw hanging open. “What? Surely you wouldn’t do that — I, I’m an astrologer, a scholar.”
    Dybo stopped too and spoke gently. “I’m teasing you, you gizzard stone of a plant-eater. I know the stars are your first love; I wouldn’t take them away from you.”
    Afsan sighed with relief and began walking again. “Thank you.”
    “But it was a remarkable kill…”
    “You forget that it almost killed me ,” replied Afsan.
    “Well, yes, you took a nasty fall. But you had so much brains to begin with, I knew that even getting half of them knocked out wouldn’t be a problem.”
    Afsan dutifully clicked his teeth.
    Soon, they were looking down upon the harbor, the steady wind ruffling their sashes. Along the shore were manyjerbok-saja trees, distinctive because their branches all grew in great trailing arrays off to the west, shaped that way by the constant unidirectional wind.
    Twenty sailing ships were moored in the harbor, ranging from small pleasure vessels to big cargo carriers. The great River spread out to the horizon, its waters choppy close to Land but looking smooth farther out. Twisty wisps of cloud were visible, but otherwise the sky was its usual deep, clear mauve. Several kinds of animals were on the beach. A caravan of hornfaces, not unlike the one Afsan had journeyed with from Carno,