“You are tourists?” the xana asked.
“Yes,” Eva replied. “Is it okay that we’re here, or should we leave?” She didn’t want to go, because this might be a chance to start digging for intel about Josh among locals, but she also didn’t want to piss anyone off or disrupt some important ceremony.
Or, god forbid, be recognized again.
“You may observe safely from a distance,” the xana replied cautiously. Her enormous eyes fixed on Mala, still draped over Eva’s neck and shoulders. “Is that creature Attuned to you?”
“She’s Attuned to herself mostly,” Eva said, reaching up to scratch Mala’s chin. The cat purred.
“She will not interfere unbidden?” the xana asked. “It would be unfortunate for her to injure herself in the Storm.”
Eva shrugged. “She does what she wants. If she gets hurt, that’s her fault. But she doesn’t usually go running into trouble.” Usually. Aside from facing down a bunch of Attuned like it was nothing and almost getting poisoned.
“May the Light embrace you then,” the xana said, and left without another word.
“What’s a Storm, anyway?” Eva called after her. “Is it going to rain?” There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but weather was its own wild force, different on every planet.
“There may be moisture” was the reply, but nothing else.
She turned to Vakar. “I don’t suppose you’ve dug up anything on the q-net about what to expect?”
Vakar smelled like jasmine and roses and vanilla. Thoughtful, but with some anticipation. “I think this will be . . . interesting.” Even though he wouldn’t tell her more, he didn’t seem worried, so she settled in to wait.
Eventually, there was movement at the bottom of the pit. Eva pulled up her isohelmet so she could use its distance-vision enhancement tech to get a closer look.
Oblong objects like large eggs were spread around the ground, each several meters away from the other. There were maybe ten of them, ranging in color from a delicate pink to a pale yellow to a deep bluish-gray, almost silvery. The pink ones were the smallest, while the silvery one must have been at least two meters tall if Eva’s sensors were accurate. Each of them was moving, some more frequently or violently than others, and now it was clear why this was called a Hatching.
But why a Storm?
That became clear as soon as one of the eggs finally burst open, a yellow one. The creature inside, far from being a fragile chick or wobbly legged lizard, was fully formed and apparently aggressive. It was a quadruped, with sea-green skin or fur or scales—hard to tell from a distance—and a long, forked tail. Its ears resembled the fins of a fish, with a matching fin on the top of its head, and a pale ruff around its neck like a collar. Black eyes peered at the xana, who quickly surrounded it, and with a high-pitched cry it began to swing its tail around defensively.
It was one of the Attuned. Except it wasn’t bonded to anyone yet, was it?
The xana didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, not even the children. They stood in a loose circle around the creature, which continued to posture, lowering its head and raising its tail, then reversing that position, almost like it was making a wave with its body. It crouched low to the ground, staring down a xana who couldn’t have been more than a fist taller than it was, and Eva’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for the animal to pounce.
Only it didn’t. Instead, the xana released a wave of concentrated psychic energy, all aimed directly at the creature. It was like what Mala did to calm Eva down, but on a whole other level, a pure emanation of empathy and understanding and acceptance. And beneath that, it was an invitation, an offer, a hand extended in friendship. There was nothing controlling about it, no sense of coercion or mandate, only a gentle coaxing, like when Min tried to get the cats to come over to her when she wanted to pet them.
Nothing like what Damaal had leveled at them in her office, which had been about as gentle as a brick to the face.
Slowly, maintaining the psychic effects, some of the xana produced small offerings of food from their pockets or harness pouches. They held these out without waving them around or otherwise trying to attract additional attention, but the creature was clearly interested in the people with food more than the others. Nonetheless, no one reduced their contribution to the communal activity—what would one call it? Storm seemed more aggressive than what was happening, but then again, Eva hadn’t seen a storm on Garilia yet. Maybe their weather was calmer, more soothing.
Finally, the Attuned did one last slow rotation at the center of the circle, then stopped and ambled toward one of the xana. The others remained where they stood, but withdrew psychically, emanating continued support without that underlying coaxing. The chosen xana was young, the equivalent of a teenager if Eva had to guess, and he was unable to contain his excitement as the Attuned nudged him with its short snout. The xana offered his tail to the creature and it rested its head on it, and they shared a long moment of psychic communion that ended with a burst of sheer joy. The circle slowly dissolved then, and other xana approached the newly bonded one and its Attuned to press against him like a gentle, armless hug.
“Wow,” Eva said.
“Indeed,” Vakar said.
They stood together quietly, continuing to watch as this scene repeated for each of the eggs that hatched. Once the groups finished, they left the dig site, moving carefully around the construction equipment and materials and assisting those who had difficulty navigating by themselves. Some xana chatted quietly, all in good spirits if the emotions they were broadcasting were genuine, and a few mentioned other Storms they hoped to attend since they still had no Attuned of their own.
The local star had set completely, leaving the area dark except for the lights each xana carried with them. There were two moons, Eva knew, but at this time in the planet’s rotation they weren’t visible, so the sky was an uninterrupted stretch of velvety blue-black bright with stars. This planet was far enough from the center of its spiraling galaxy to give a good view of the most distant arms, less like the wide scar of the Milky Way and more like a gentle wave, glittering and vast, slowly cresting for eons.
Eva had a sudden sense of being watched, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. “We should probably go,” she said. They would be alone soon anyway; there was only one egg left.
“Please stay a moment, if you would be so gracious,” someone said behind them. A xana, her dark-brown fur striped black, huge eyes contemplating Eva and Vakar as she stood next to, of all people, Nara Sumas. It took a moment for Eva to realize it was her because Nara wasn’t wearing her armor, which made her marginally less tall and broad, but she was still imposing as hell. Her long, green hair was pulled back into a ponytail tight enough to give Eva a headache, and her spacesuit was the same color as the sky.
The scuff of a footstep to her left alerted her to another arrival: Jei, the cyborg-guy from Abelgard. His arm weapon wasn’t raised, but if the lights on the side were any indication, it was primed to fire.
“We’re unarmed, you know,” Eva said, taking a small step away from Vakar.
Nara snorted derisively. “So am I,” she said, her voice a deep contralto.
Yeah, okay, they both knew that didn’t mean shit. “What can I do for you?” Eva asked the xana.