When the group and their lone human guest returned to Gao, Myun had hoped that she’d at least be able to skip her classes for a little while.
Alas, it wasn’t to be. She managed to miss a ten-day’s worth, but the time off definitely wasn’t fun or relaxing. It was by turns boring, frustrating, and sad. They were stuck in a medical facility, to make sure they weren’t hurt or sick or suffering from malnutrition. Myun was okay, as were the other cubs, but some of the Mothers were hurt… some badly, like Momma Benou, who’d caught the edge of a pulse pistol blast during their escape and almost died on the voyage home.
There was also the Goodbye ceremonies for the Mothers who had died, like Momma Hamfa. The females and even some males who had known her gathered and remembered the happy times with her, praising her sacrifice even as they wished it hadn’t been needed. Myun had keened loudly – she’d really liked Hamfa, who’d always been the “fun” and “silly” one of the Mothers, always making everyone laugh – but the cubs had gathered closely together and helped each other deal with their grief.
After that was physical checkups, nutrition shots, and endlessly being asked “How do you feel?” Momma Ayma had insisted the cubs start their lessons again, even as they had to wait out their stay at the hospital. Myun had been grumpy at that, but when they began she found herself paying particular attention. Things they’d touched on before – like the other species in space, their homeworlds and what kind of people they were like – were suddenly much more important. They’d met aliens, and not all of them were nice. Myun had decided that she hated the Corti.
And she loved the humans.
At first the doctors had kept Xiù in a different area of the hospital. The Gaoian females, tired from their own ordeal, hadn’t had time to think about it for the first few days of their return. Eventually it was Myun herself who demanded to know where they’d taken “Shoo”, and the Mothers realized that the sapient they owed their lives and freedom to had been missing for days, and they’d had no word of or from her. Ayma, who was nominally still in charge until the head Mother from their original commune arrived, had demanded an explanation.
“She’s an alien,” Doctor Havayo had answered, as if that explained everything. He was nice, and Myun generally liked him, but at that moment she’d have happily kicked him in the shins. “We have to be careful about contaminants, and she might have unknown but dangerous traits-”
“We were locked in a room with her for nearly three ten-days, Doctor,” Ayma answered. “It hardly matters at this point.”
“But we can’t make assumptions! There’s tests we need to run-”
“Bring. Her. Here.” Gaoian males were bigger and stronger, but nothing was as scary as an angry Mother.
Xiù was brought to their rooms, and even given a nest-bed of her own. She didn’t look like she’d been mistreated, but she was very happy to see them all again, especially Myun… the first thing the cub had done when she’d seen her was dash over and latch onto her arm. The human had dipped down and let her climb onto her back like a newborn, lifting her with effortless strength… strength not a single one of them – not even Xiù – had realized she had for the entire time they’d been imprisoned together, but strength that had been all too needed in the end.
With her return, their “observation” period was a lot easier to deal with. Before, it had seemed a bit too much like their time in the Corti’s research lab, even if the colours were brighter and they had windows looking out on gardens. They were still locked in together, and doctors would come and occasionally take someone for more tests, which was scary even if they came back healthier than before. Myun knew she wasn’t the only cub to feel that way, and some of the Mothers were edgy. But now Xiù was back, and they all knew nobody could keep her locked in if she didn’t want to be. Even the Mothers who were a little bit scared of the human were happier with her there.
Myun demanded that Xiù be there when it was her turn to get her Corti suppressor chip taken out. The human didn’t really know what was going on, but she followed when the little cub grabbed her hand when the doctor came, and held her paw as a small patch of the cub’s fur was shaved away; the chip was in deep, and the doctor had to numb a small section of her neck so they could excise it. Xiù’s suspicious, apex-predator stare had made the doctor nervous… but Myun squeezed her hand to let her know it was okay. Taking the chip out didn’t take long at all, and afterward the doctor sealed the wound shut with dermal glue.
After that she’d wanted to be there when they took the chip out of Xiù… but then they’d told her they wouldn’t be taking the chip out of her. Myun had thrown a fit, because they’d said that if they left the chip in it would weaken their immune systems and they’d get sick more often, even if they wouldn’t pass the illness on to anyone else. She didn’t want Xiù to get sick! It was Momma Ayma that took her aside and explained that Xiù had exactly the opposite problem: her immune system was too strong. The colds that could make her sick were just as strong, too strong for any Gaoian to survive… and so Xiù had to keep her implant, and the doctors had to make sure it was always working. Myun had reluctantly accepted that.
The doctors did lots of tests on the human. Sometimes she looked scared, but Myun remembered how Momma Hamfa would hold her paw when she got scared at the doctor, so Myun did the same thing, squeezing Xiù’s strange furless digits between her own. Whenever blood was needed, Hamfa would make the doctors draw it from her first, to show the little cub that it wasn’t a bad thing, and so she did the same, and found that was a whole lot easier to be brave when you were being brave for someone else.
Momma Ayma had looked at Myun proudly. “You’re going to make a very good Mother someday,” she’d said. Myun had been embarrassed and warmed by the praise.
Sometimes the doctors seemed interested in things that had nothing to do with keeping Xiù healthy, like how hard she could hit or how her species would breed. They would whisper words that Myun didn’t understand but found threatening, like ‘biopsy’ or ‘endoscopy’. Those were words Myun had heard while they’d been kept by the Corti, and she didn’t like them at all. The Mothers didn’t like them either, and by the time the hissing and snarling was done the doctors were nearly hiding inside their overalls; they still had hopes of having cubs of their own someday, but Momma Ayma made it very clear it would never happen if she heard they were mistreating their guest. After that they were a lot nicer.
Xiù didn’t speak Gaori, and so she looked upset and confused often as the arguments raged around her. Momma Garmin had looked at trying to get a translator, even though the devices were expensive, but apparently there was a big fuss with the other races… something that made asking for a translator that could speak Human a big deal, and they couldn’t get one. So Myun took it upon herself to teach Xiù. She brought her computer slate with her when she’d visit after her morning lessons, and she’d show her friend the little animated videos and read along with her as the teaching program spoke the sentences: “The laytun bird threw the seed in the water.” “Mother Maymo is wearing her warm yellow overalls.”
By the time they were finally – finally! – released from the hospital a ten-day later, Xiù was able to speak halting sentences, to indicate when she was hungry or had to use the toilet. She could say “please” and “thank you” (Momma Rumori had said those were the most important words in any language). The doctors seemed surprised by how quickly she became understandable… Momma Yulna snidely asked whether they’d forgotten Xiù was sapient as Myun looked on admiringly, looking forward to the day when she’d be old enough to use that tone of voice and not be scolded.
It was a relief to settle back into a proper commune, even if the circumstances were terrible. Originally they had all planned on migrating to a commune on the colony of Gorai, but after the tragedy of their journey and kidnapping they had no heart to try again. All of their belongings had been destroyed with the ship, but their original commune on Gao welcomed them back with open arms… even with their highly-unusual new member. Myun even managed to get back her old nest-bed in the cub’s dorm, but no matter how much she argued or spit or stomped her feet, Xiù didn’t get a nest-bed beside hers.
One of the first things they’d asked when they thought Xiù would understand was how old she was, and she’d said that she was relatively young… old enough to mate (her furless skin had turned a strange shade of pink) but never having had a cub of her own. That meant that she wasn’t a Mother, but with her adoption into the clan she could be considered a Sister, and so she slept in the dorm with the other mature females who weren’t Mothers.
Myun could tell that Xiù was often overwhelmed, sometimes frightened or sad. For the first day she didn’t leave her bed, but on the second day Myun barged her way into the Sisters’ dorm and dragged her out into the common area of the commune – the walkways that connected the various buildings, lined by gardens carefully tended by the Sisters. Myun knew that some species didn’t have time or interest in nature, preferring space stations and starships and the artificial. Gaoians weren’t like that… her people liked trees and flowers and other green things, and being out under the blue-green sky, and the soft feel of the breeze against fur.
Judging from how much happier Xiù seemed, her people were the same. So Myun made sure to drag her outside every day, even though the winter was coming and the air was getting chill (she’d thought humans would dislike the cold more since they didn’t have fur, but Xiù never complained). She also made her come to the main hall for meals, and the learning centre where they’d work together on Xiù’s vocabulary. And most heartening of all, she began practicing her battle-dance again, in a quiet area where the cubs would sometimes play, Myun beside her just like when they were imprisoned together.
Sometimes she felt like she was Mother to Xiù. Momma Ayma had declared that Xiù was clan when they were rescued, and she’d repeated it again when the doctors were looking at the alien as if she was a delicious nava grub, which is why she was entitled to stay at a female commune and was protected by the massed will of the clan.
The male clans hadn’t liked that at all. The adults hadn’t explained the fuss to her – in fact, they avoided talking about it anywhere she or Xiù could hear – but Myun would sometimes sneak out of bed and eavesdrop on the Mothers as they spoke quietly over tea after bedtime, when all the cubs in the commune were supposed to be asleep.
“What business is it of theirs?” Momma Yulna had demanded. Myun really didn’t need to sneak around to listen to Yulna… she was loud. Her missing eye had been cloned and replaced, but her fur was still white where it hid her scars, and ever since their rescue she got angry easily and often. Momma Gamin said she was hurt inside, in her mind, and that everyone should be patient with her, but Myun couldn’t help but notice that the other Mothers and Sisters tried to find excuses to be places that Yulna wasn’t, and the older Gaoian was alone a lot. But she was nearly as devoted to Xiù as Myun herself, and she was Myun’s favourite because of it.
“It’s none of their business,” Yulna repeated. “She’s female. Mammalian, even! She’s clan!”
“It’s not that simple,” Ayma said patiently. “She’s not Gaoian. There’s never been an adoption into the Clan of Females before, there’s no precedent. And she hurt their pride… she beat Trig’s thugs where the entire crew of the Winter Coat couldn’t. I think… I think some of them doubt our telling of events.”
“They want to challenge her?” Yulna’s incredulity could be heard all the way down the hall to where Myun huddled, listening. Then she began chittering hysterically. “Let them! I’d pay good credits to watch some uppity Redtail or One-Fang idiot get thrown through a wall.”
“And if she kills one of them in the process?”
“Why do you assume she would? She didn’t kill most of the mercenaries at the lab complex, not even the Allebenellin.” Yulna’s tone clearly indicated how merciful she would have been.
“But she did kill some of them.”
“So? Don’t tell me you pity them!”
“I will not mourn a single one of those butchers,” Ayma growled. “But I won’t ignore how they died, either.”
“Why would-”
“Clearly Ayma knows something we do not,” interrupted Momma Gamin, ever the peacemaker. “Can you explain?”
“It’s something the scientists learned from her,” Ayma replied tiredly. “Her people… they have – well… instincts, I suppose. They can learn a motion or response to such a degree that it becomes unconscious, without needing to think about it.”
“So?” Yulna challenged. “That’s hardly unusual. I don’t need to think about where I put my feet when I walk across a room, or how to move my muzzle when I speak.”
“You learned all that when you were barely a cub,” she replied. “Shoo’s people are different. They retain the ability well into adulthood. They can train themselves to react without thinking. And Shoo is trained in battle.” There was a pause. “I am not complaining or claiming superiority. Threaten a cub and none of us will consider before attacking, either. But we know what our triggers are. What are hers?”
“Do you think she’s a danger?” Momma Trivai asked softly.
There was another pause, and Myun had the feeling that Ayma was thinking her answer over carefully. “No. I wouldn’t consider her clan otherwise. But… have you seen her when she practices her battle-dance, her gung-fu? I don’t mean the slow, careful thing she’s teaching Myun. I mean when she goes out into the yard alone.”
“She’s very fast,” Garmin admitted. “I can see how she took apart that Corti’s brutes so easily.”
“She’s not there,” Ayma said, and her voice was sharp. “What you saw was Shoo’s body, moving without the assistance of her mind. She calls it meditation, and she says it is restful… like sleeping, except while awake.”
“But… it’s so long and complex-”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Ayma agreed grimly. “And yet it’s the product of what she calls a `still mind’. It’s an example of what she’s capable of, without even thinking.”
The Mothers were all silent for long moments. “Shoo is my friend,” Ayma said resolutely. “I would be glad to call her Sister, and not just because she helped free us and protect the cubs. But we mustn’t forget that she is a complex, alien being. There will be surprises, not all of them pleasant… things she wouldn’t think to warn of us of, because it wouldn’t occur to her that we wouldn’t know. And I’d rather it not be someone from outside the clan with an agenda of his own to discover them first.”
Myun had quietly padded back to her nest-bed, confused by the conversation. It had sounded like Momma Ayma was saying Xiù could be scary, but wasn’t. It also sounded like the male clans were causing trouble. She knew that males weren’t typically dumb or cruel – the captain of the Journey Home, the ship that had rescued them from the prison, had been really nice – but the Mothers often warned that the leaders of the clans spent a lot of time fighting, trying to keep their positions against those under them.
Xiù could beat them all with one arm tied behind her. Were they scared of her because of it? Would they make her leave Gao?
Fortunately, just a few days after the overheard conversation, Xiù was visited by none other than Mother-Supreme Giymuy. It was Myun’s first time seeing the Mother-Supreme in person… she’d only ever seen her on holovid in school. The elder female’s fur had turned almost completely silver, and she radiated a stern authority that made everyone dip their heads as if they were just cubs themselves.
Giymuy ordered everyone – even her own assistants – out of the meeting room, and sat down to tea and sweetbreads with their alien visitor. Myun had sat outside the room along with the Mothers, who were all sitting quietly and pretending they weren’t straining their ears to hear any of the quiet conversation that was happening inside the room. Ayma tried to make the lone cub go back to the playground or the learning centre, but in a display of childish cunning Myun said she would go if Momma Yulna took her… and Yulna wasn’t going anywhere.
The meeting took a long time, but Myun didn’t fuss or act bored or give the adults any reason to want her to leave (which put her ahead of some of the Sisters, she noticed). When the doors opened everyone leapt to their feet as Giymuy walked out, her expression inscrutable. She turned to regard Xiù, who stood in the doorway and looked back calmly, her black and white eyes so similar to a Gaoian’s; then the human had bent at the middle, dipping her upper body toward the Mother-Supreme. It was unmistakably a gesture of respect, and Myun knew she didn’t imagine the pleased look in Giymuy’s eyes.
Momma Garmin lead the commune, so she escorted Giymuy and her assistants outside, where they exchanged a few words before the Supreme-Mother boarded her personal shuttle and set off back to the planetary capital. When Garmin returned it was with a confused look as she was nearly swarmed by the other females.
“Well?” demanded Yulna.
“She-” Garmin looked flabbergasted. “She said that Shoo likes habera cakes.”
Myun wrinkled her nose. Nobody liked habera cakes… she’d tried one once, finding it too bitter and the texture was weird. Apparently the Mother-Supreme had a fondness for them from when she was a cub, though that had to have been so long ago Myun couldn’t even imagine it.
“What?” Yulna asked, her voice subdued for once. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know!” Garmin gestured helplessly.
They got their answer the next day, when the announcement was broadcast that Xiù of clan Chang of Earth had been formally adopted into the Clan of Females. The various male clans grumbled and spit, but in the end their opinions didn’t matter. Myun was elated.
That had all happened several months before. With the crisis done, Myun threw herself into her schooling, determined to learn as much as she could to pass it on to Xiù. After all: she was a Sister now, and barely knew anything about Gao or its people, but she was too old to come to lessons with the other cubs.
She also tried to learn as much as she could about humans and their homeworld. The clan was still looking for Earth, sponsoring the few captains who explored beyond Gaoian space, making quiet inquiries with the other races at the same time. Their investigations found some surprises: an unidentified alien had helped defeat a Hunter attack of all things at a space station belonging to the Vzk’tk Domain. His species hadn’t been identified, but as soon as they saw the holovids they knew he was a human… male, and hairier, and bigger than Xiù, but unmistakably the same species. There were also unconfirmed reports of an alien that almost singlehandedly turned around the fortunes of the beleaguered Dominion in their war with the Celzi… a creature that, for some reason, went by the name of “Human”.
Momma Yulna had chittered so hard she almost fell out of her chair.
It seemed as though that despite the obstacles the other galactic polities were putting into the path of the unaligned Gaoians, it would only be a matter of time before the human homeworld could be found, and Xiù could go home. As sad as it was to think about her leaving, Myun knew her friend missed her home clan, her sire and her truemother. (How strange, that she knew who they were!) She had decided that when Xiù went home, she wouldn’t whine or make a fuss or do anything to make her friend feel bad about it.
She also decided, equally resolute, that she’d go with her.
To Earth. Where everyone was strong, where they learned amazing battle-dances, and even a Hunter attack was a joke! Myun wanted to learn how to fight like a human, so that the next time the Corti tried to take them she could stop them. She could protect Momma Ayma and Yulna and not just stand there shaking… like she had when the Locayl had tried to take her that day in the prison, before Xiù had saved her.
That was why she was outside, on a crisp winter day, practicing the little bit of gung-fu Xiù had taught her.
She was in a small open area, a place surrounded on all sides by tall hedges and a stair that lead up to the main commune building. It was a popular place for the cubs to play outdoor games during the warmer times of year, but now it was wide and empty and a perfect place to be alone. A light dusting of snow covered the stone seats along the walls and the pebbled ground, but her fur and overalls kept her warm.
Xiù was hesitant to teach her… in her pidgin Gaori, she’d explained that she wasn’t experienced enough to be a teacher, she was just a student herself. She didn’t even consider herself a fighter; apparently what she really wanted to be was a storyteller, and she learned gung-fu to be able to tell her stories better. Myun wasn’t sure how that worked, but whatever; she begged and begged, until Xiù relented and showed her some very basic movements.
She learned those movements with the zeal of a fanatic. It was hard, as a Gaoian couldn’t move like a human… Myun wasn’t able to lift her legs anywhere near as high, and her centre of balance was higher even though she was shorter. But she adapted the movements to what she could do, and when Xiù saw how devoted she was to learning she added a few more, after checking with the Mothers to make sure it was okay. After that she was endlessly patient, and Myun got the impression that Xiù was happy to be doing something, contributing in some way to the commune.
The two would go down to the gaming area and practice, in the slow, steady manner that Xiù insisted on. Only once had the cub managed to talk her into showing her how the battle-dance was supposed to really be… when she would unleash herself and use all the speed and strength a human possessed. Too worried about accidents, Xiù had made Myun watch from the top of the stairs; the cub had watched, transfixed, as her friend became motion incarnate, even the snow rising up to swirl around her.
What Myun was being taught was nowhere near as fast or violent. It was gentle and slow and relatively easy for the little cub to emulate. Myun had protested at being taught “easy stuff”, but in a rare moment of annoyance Xiù had said taiji was how she’d started, and if Myun didn’t want to learn it right then Xiù wouldn’t teach her at all. The cub had been chastened… especially when Momma Yulna – who normally cared nothing about discipline – had stomped around the corner and voiced her agreement.
They hadn’t forbidden her from extra practice, however. So she would arrive at their practice area almost as soon as morning lessons were done and run through the motions she knew. Xiù had said there were one hundred and eight movements, and Myun had memorized almost thirty, although she still had to think and remember each one in turn… if she could do Xiù’s meditation, she’d shown no sign of it. She still tried… each night before going to sleep she would sit in her nest-bed in the dorm with her eyes closed, trying to concentrate on just her breathing and letting her mind go blank, just as Xiù had explained. It got her a lot of strange looks from the other cubs.
She had just finished move eighteen – bào hu gui shan, Xiù called it – when a voice interrupted her from behind, opposite to the stairs where the play area exited to the commons and walking areas that connected the buildings of the commune.
“Look at little Myun, trying to pretend that she’s an alien.”
Confused, she stood upright and turned to see a small gang of male cubs standing behind her. She recognized them all… they varied in age, and the most of the younger ones attended morning lessons with her. The speaker was the eldest, a big cub by the name of Riigo, and he looked at her with an arrogant expression, even the tilt of his ears showing contempt. His fur had begun to shift from the even dark greys of childhood to the steel colours and red ripples of adulthood. It would be another few years before Myun gained the white and black streaks across her arms and shoulders that indicated sexual maturity. She wasn’t in any rush… she had no desire to bear a cub and couldn’t imagine putting up with a male’s foolishness long enough to make it happen.
Foolishness like Riigo’s. He was at the age when he realized females were important, but not why. He was old enough to become interested in the power politics of Gaoian males, their natural desire to form a hierarchy, but too young to realize that females weren’t a part of that hierarchy and never would be. Soon it would be time for him to leave the nursery community and join a clan, most likely the clan of his sire, where he’d find his purpose and a firm hand to guide him to it. He’d be happier… the males of their species always were when they were pointed in a definite direction, no matter what it was.
Myun hoped that would happen soon, because he was getting really rather annoying.
He’d intended to make her angry, but the statement was just so dumb she couldn’t even process it. “I am not. I’m exercising. And I’m busy. Go away.”
“Yes, you are! You’re trying to learn that alien’s dance!” The other boys looked on curiously as he scorned her; Riigo was the biggest of them, and apparently had claimed the leader position of their little pack.
“So? It’s fun! Why do you care?”
“You just look stupid! The alien looks stupid, too, with that flat face and no fur!”
Myun felt her own fur standing on end in anger. “She’s not stupid! She’s way smarter than you, and stronger, too!”
“No, she isn’t!”
“She is!” Myun matched his scorn. “She could pick you up and throw you all the way to the meal hall! She got mad at the Locayl who tried to hurt me, and she kicked him, and crunch! He was dead, just like that!”
“So you say,” Riigo replied. “Everyone knows the females made that up.”
“What?” Myun demanded.
“You heard me. It’s just a story! An accident happened on your ship, and the males died, and so your group made up a story to make it sound like you were brave and had to fight. Everyone knows it didn’t really happen.”
“That’s a lie,” Myun hissed, more angry than she ever remembered being. She knew he was just being dumb, trying to make her angry… but he was implying that what they’d suffered, the deaths of Hamfa and the other Mothers, was nothing but make-believe. “Go away if you’re going to tell lies!”
Now he was getting angry. “I’m not a liar, you’re the liars! Why don’t you tell us what really happened?” He lurched forward and grabbed her arm, thinking to push her backwards and intimidate her.
Myun had enough time to blink and think: Did he really-? She didn’t feel any fear… in fact, she felt more curious than anything as she stepped aside, letting him keep his grip as her paw turned and rested gently against his elbow. She added a little bit of force in the same direction he was pushing.
Riigo fell over, letting go of her arm as his paws and knees hit the ground.
She blinked, and the other cubs looked on in shock. Elation and fear warred in her heart. Elation, because she realized that despite her obsessive study, she hadn’t really expected it to work.
Fear, because Riigo was standing back up… and if he was angry before he was furious now. He looked ready to hit her for real, and she could see the tips of his claws peeking out from their sheaths. Fortunately, whatever the cub might have done was interrupted by a shouted “Hey!” from the top of the stairs.
All the cubs looked up. At the top of the stone stairs stood Xiù, dressed in the long, warm coat the clan had made for her, the imitation fur carefully coloured to indicate her gender since – except for the long, black fur on top of her head – she had little of her own. The little lines of fur above her eyes were tilted in the manner that indicated she was angry. Her head-fur, so long and soft compared to a Gaoian’s, was braided and pulled forward over her shoulder.
Keeping her eyes on the cubs, the human carefully descended the stairs. As always, Myun marvelled at how smoothly she moved… she always looked like she was gliding, weightless. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom and the pebbles and snow crunched underneath her feet that her mass was hinted at, at least twice as heavy as the biggest Gaoian. And not just her body… the elder females had arranged for weights to be sewn into the clothing they’d made for her. Apparently the gravity on Gao was too light, and they were worried about Xiù losing muscle tone or bone density if she wasn’t weighed down like she would be on her homeworld. Her coat alone was almost too heavy for Myun to lift.
Myun had begun sneaking some weights into her overalls, into the cuffs and beneath the utility pouch… just small pebbles she picked up from the play area. She suspected Momma Yulna knew, but never said anything. She’d never be as strong as Xiù, but when she took her overalls off at the end of the day to sleep she felt much lighter, and she hoped that meant she was getting strong like a human.
Xiù came to a stop in front of them, and her eyes cast suspiciously over the group of boys. “Myun, what happens here?” she asked in her heavy accent. Despite Riigo’s words, most of the males were holding their heads low, their ear fur pricked with fear. Myun had to stifle a chitter of amusement even through her own nervousness.
The exception was Riigo, who glared at the human. Myun had embarrassed him, and now that an older female was present his ire had naturally transferred to her. He was almost as tall as she was, and if he’d looked at one of the Mothers with the expression he was currently wearing they’d shave his fur off with their bare claws. Xiù didn’t know she was being sassed, but even if he tried something it would be over so fast… squish!
But… that wouldn’t be a good thing, would it? Myun suddenly remembered what Momma Ayma said about Xiù being able to react without thinking. If the big cub tried to hit her, how would she respond? Would she treat it like the pathetic joke it was, or would she hit him back before realizing? And even if she didn’t, what would happen to Riigo? He was near the age where becoming violent with a female wouldn’t be forgiven. She didn’t like him, but she didn’t necessarily think he should be cut off from ever having a cub just because he was young and dumb… it was a phase they all went through.
“Myun?” Xiù’s hands were held slightly away from her body. Maybe she knew how to read Gaoian expressions better than Myun thought.
“They want to learn gung-fu!” Myun suddenly blurted. She felt a half-dozen pairs of eyes land on her, and her ears tilted back in embarrassment. “I mean… maybe?”
She turned to Riigo, who was looking at her with astonishment, his anger fizzling in his confusion. Myun forced herself to forge on, gaining speed as she became excited with the idea. There was no way he’d ever believe the lies if he actually saw Xiù in action. “Learn with me! It’s really fun, and Shoo says it can make you strong without big muscles! It’s just me right now, but it’d be so much better with someone else to practice with!”
Even Xiù was surprised. The tension in her frame disappeared, and she looked over the gathered boys with interest. The younger cubs were looking between the human, Myun, and Riigo – and did some of them look excited at the idea? Riigo looked at Myun with confusion, and she surprised herself by hoping he’d say yes.
Unfortunately the older cub just scowled and looked away. “I don’t need to learn silly alien dances! I’m going to join the One-Fangs like my sire! I’m going to fly a starfighter and kill aliens who attack us, even Hunters!”
Myun started to get angry again, but she pushed it down and let disappointment take its place. “That’s too bad,” she replied. “We’ll be here if you change your mind.”
Riigo looked surprised again, unsure how to deal with her sudden diplomacy. He sniffed, turning and walking out of the play area with his nose in the air. The other boys followed him, and she knew she wasn’t imagining the disappointment in their eyes.
“All okay?” Xiù asked softly after a moment. She was watching Myun with a concerned gaze.
She thought about her answer for a moment. Xiù would probably feel bad if she thought that Myun was being picked on because of their friendship; she’d think that the little cub felt excluded and sad. She didn’t… she felt wonderful! Xiù was the strongest fighter in the galaxy, but she need protecting, too… and Myun could do it! She was clan, and clan stuck together.
She didn’t say this; she just sniffed dismissively in the direction the other cubs had left. “Boys are dumb,” she said, and felt happy as Xiù laughed her strange human laugh.
Then the two began practicing taiji, and Myun didn’t complain, not even inside her own mind. By the end she’d memorized another two movements, and they left so Myun could do her homework and Xiù could offer her help in the kitchens with the end-of-day meal.
When they returned the next day they found Fallo – the smallest and most timid of Riigo’s group – waiting in the play area. The little cub shyly asked if he could join the two females in learning the human battle-dance.
After getting a confirming assent from Xiù, Myun gave him a welcoming hug. Then they began to practice together, and Myun felt right.