Free Beholder's Eye by Julie E. Czerneda Page A

despite our little fracas in Suddmusal.”
    “A caravan?” The Human pulled at a stem of grass in a movement that looked idle, but was still tense, even though he eased his back against the curl of a shrub root with a sigh. He half closed his eyes, but I decided it was so he could watch me less noticeably. His attention made the old insect bites under my fur itch and I began scratching at the most annoying of them.
    “You have it down pat,” Ragem said after a moment.
    “What down pat?” I mumbled through a mouthful of skin and fur. The row of small teeth at the front of my jaw was really the only way to ease the irritation on my back. Relieved, I flopped my head around to look at him, prying the odd hair from my teeth with my tongue so I could swallow it.
    “If I didn’t know better—I’d swear you really were a dog, or the Kraosian version.” Ragem seemed to think I’d be offended by this, for he went on with a faint air of discomfort, “I’m sure your acting ability has saved your life here, Huntress.” He coughed delicately. “But it really isn’t necessary with me.”
    I stopped swallowing hair and bug bits. “Just staying in character, Specialist Ragem,” I said, before I reached over my shoulder again, biting urgently at a spot that hadn’t itched a moment ago. Damn. I’d picked up something new already.
    Ragem was quiet for a while. I could feel his eyes on me, the intensity of his curiosity something I thought I could reach out and touch. It was only luck that had kept him from actually seeing me cycle, or worse, seeing my real form. I wondered suddenly if that mattered. Plainly his imagination was operating full time, conjuring up who knew what outrageous theories about my kind. Ersh was going to chew me into oblivion.
    Itches subdued, at least for now, I pulled a front paw under my chin and gazed back at him. “Where’re you from?” I asked, before he could start questioning me again.
    He raised his brows, as though startled. Maybe he’d forgotten what I was already. The thought made me rather smug. “I was born midspace, Huntress. A true Commonwealth citizen.”
    I shivered with a delicious combination of horror and fascination. Most things the Web stored in shared memory had names which took days to remember fully. Space was short enough. We called it out there.
    I looked at Ragem with new interest. “Were your parents spaceborn?”
    He shook his head. “Just me. My dad’s a drive-tech from Senigal III. He met my mom when she was navigator on the merchantship Thebes. She pulled a temp-contract for him so they could be together.” Ragem grinned. “Didn’t last long—turned out Dad gets queasy in free fall—but long enough to have me, anyway. Mom’s pure Botharan stock; she can trace fourteen generations.” His smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful look at me. “How about you? Where are you from?”
    “Not here,” I said, doing my best to say it with humor. “Do you enjoy space travel, Specialist Ragem?”
    “Depends on the destination, I suppose,” he answered willingly enough, then zeroed back on his target with distressing speed. “Somehow I don’t see Lanivar as your home, Es.”
    “The Lanivarians care less for space than your father,” I agreed. “Which makes me wonder what he’s doing now.”
    “Who?” he said blankly, thrown off his mark. As I’d intended.
    “Your father,” I repeated.
    Ragem shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn’t say. He’s not much for keeping in touch. But why are you interested in my father?”
    “I’m interested in everything.”
    “Everything.” The word came out of his mouth meaning something different. A quiver of caution traveled down my spine and I thumped my tail to end it.
    “You find that odd, Paul Ragem?” I asked. “Why? It’s been a long time since I could talk to anyone. I’ve been alone, Paul Ragem. Alone and like this.” I stood on four feet, not two. Then I squatted on my haunches, raising my arms to shoulder