"I know."
* * * * *
Neither of them moved. They stood silent, their thoughts the same; in a
little while now, the Peace of the Drone would be over, and all this
celebrating crowd would grow warily quiet, would climb back into their
various fighting machines, close the hatches and man the guns and creep
away in their separate directions. The world would go its way again, a
world in which there was no place left for the two of them....
Dworn blotted the image from his mind's eye and bent to kiss Qanya once
more, while the Peace lasted.
A voice called, "Dworn!" A familiar voice--one that couldn't be real,
that must be a trick of his ears.
He turned. A little way off stood a small group of people watching them,
and in the forefront was a stalwart man of fifty, in the green garment
of a beetle with a golden scarab blazoned on his chest--
"_Father!_" Dworn gasped unbelieving.
They grasped one another's hands and looked into one another's eyes.
Dworn was only dimly aware of the others looking on--among them the
hard-faced Spider Mother, and the grizzled chief scorpion whose cohorts
had struck the decisive blow in the battle.
Yold smiled with a quizzically raised eyebrow. "You thought I was dead,
no doubt? You came on the spot where we were attacked and you saw--"
Dworn nodded and gulped. "I couldn't have been mistaken. I saw your
machine there, wrecked.... And now I've lost mine." His voice trailed
off miserably.
His father gave him a penetrating look. "I see. You're supposing that
means everything is over."
"Doesn't it?"
The chief smiled again. "When you departed for your wanderyear, you were
still a boy, though you'd learned your lessons and your beetle
traditions well.... But now you're a man. We don't tell boys
everything."
Dworn stared at his father, while understanding dawned like a glory
upon him. To live again, the life he'd thought lost--
"So far as I could learn, your beetle was disabled through no fault of
your own. In fact, by what these strangers tell me--" Yold nodded
towards the Spider Mother and the scorpion chief--"you've proved
yourself worthy indeed, over and above the customary testing. Of course,
there will be the formality of a rebirth ceremony--which I have to
undergo, too, so we can both do so together."
Dworn couldn't speak. Once again he had to remind himself that a beetle
warrior didn't weep--not even tears of joy.
Then the Spider Mother spoke up, her voice brittle and metallic. "The
girl will naturally be returned to us. After this business, I am going
to have to take pains to restore discipline in the Family."
Dworn saw Qanya's desolate face, took one step to the girl's side and
put a shielding arm around her. He felt Qanya trembling, and glared at
the Spider Mother's implacable face.
"I won't go back!" Qanya cried vehemently. "I'll die first! I never
wanted to be a spider, anyway!"
"And I," growled Dworn, "won't let you take her. I won't let her go--"
his face was pale, but he went on resolutely--"even if it means I can't
return to my own people."
The beetle chief surveyed the two young people gravely, then turned to
confront the old woman. He said, "I don't see that you have any further
claim on the girl. According to our customs, she too can be
'reborn'--this time into the beetle horde, as one of my people--and my
son's."
The head scorpion, looking on, nodded approval and grinned encouragingly
at Dworn.
The Spider Mother and the chief exchanged a long, stony look--on either
side, the look of a ruler used to command.
"It would be too bad," said Yold softly, "to mar the Peace. But my
warriors are within call, and...."
The Spider Mother turned away and spat. "Have it your way. Who wants
weaklings in the Family!"
The chief glanced sidelong at Dworn and Qanya, and saw that they were
wholly absorbed in one another. With an open-handed gesture he invited
the Spider Mother to follow him.
"Shall we go, then," he suggested politely, "and--while the Peace still
reigns--find out whether the pill-bugs' beverage is all they claim it
is?"