The coordinates marked a spot on the far side of the island where one edge of the land met the ocean. The water below us was moving, the blue-green edged with white sea foam where it met the beach.
Waves. I remembered learning about those—they were caused by wind and something to do with a moon, I thought, though I didn’t see one of those at the moment. The sky was a wide swath of blue from down here, dotted with clouds, the sun too bright to look at without squinting.
A ship slightly larger than our fighters waited for us on the beach. I reached out to Alanik, who flew in front of me. Do you sense any inhibitors?
No, she said. Still no cytonics either, though I think that ship has a taynix.
That would make sense, if they had a hypercomm. These aliens had managed to steal a Superiority taynix, which was impressive. It also showed initiative, a good trait in allies. We couldn’t be expected to protect every species in the galaxy when we could barely protect ourselves.
We cruised in for a landing on the sand, and I used my ship’s air quality monitor to check the levels of oxygen in the atmosphere. The air appeared to be breathable, and there were no alerts about any noxious gases like the miasma on ReDawn.
I landed my ship within sight of the other vessel, and the rest of my flight landed around me. I waited until we were all on the ground before opening my canopy.
The ocean, I discovered, was scudding loud, like it was being run by a starfighter engine. The water rushed toward us, the peaks of the waves rising and then receding, like an arm reaching for something it couldn’t quite grasp. I didn’t understand how it moved like that, as if it were alive, and it made me wish I’d paid more attention when they’d taught us about Old Earth.
I climbed out of my ship, and the members of my flight joined me one by one. Though we should have been focused on the ship, and watching for ambushes over the strange, layered sandstone cliffs that lined the beach, I noticed mine weren’t the only eyes on the ocean.
I turned toward a flurry of motion over by the kitsen ship, shielding my eyes from the blinding sun. A group of rodents was moving toward us, the one in front floating on a disk about the size of a dinner plate—a small acclivity-stone craft, I was guessing. Most of the rodents were wearing flightsuits, but the floating one wore a red and gold uniform and had a furry head with a set of enormous ears that looked something like the pictures of foxes from Old Earth, though I thought foxes were bigger. These creatures were around twenty centimeters tall.
But they were coming toward me from a starship, standing on two legs, and wearing clothes, so…
I turned around, looking for Alanik. She was already walking up behind me. The sand seemed to slip from under her feet as she walked, making the trip laborious.
“These are kitsen?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve never met one, but I learned about the species before I left for Starsight. They have a dynastic culture, I believe.”
Dynastic. That seemed so primitive, like something out of Spensa’s stories.
Farther back on the sand, I could see Cuna and FM climbing out of the Dulo, which had landed next to the medical transport ship we’d brought along for Cobb and Gran-Gran.
The kitsen were growing closer now, and the robed one on the floating platform raised a paw clenched into a fist, like they were angry with me.
I wasn’t the most qualified person to establish diplomatic relations, but I had been the one talking to Kauri over the radio.
“Hello,” I called. “Are you…Kauri?”
“Yes, human!” the kitsen said. She had a translator pin affixed to the front of her uniform like a brooch. “I am Kauri.” She floated up in front of us on her dinner plate while the rest of her crew clambered over the sand behind her. “I am the captain of the Swims Against the Current in a Stream Reflecting the Sun, and I welcome you to our planet.”
“All their names are like that,” Alanik said quietly beside me. “The Superiority shortens the name of their planet to Evershore.”
The kitsen’s ears twitched, and I wondered if this was an offensive term given to them by their oppressors.
“That is very astute, Alanik!” Kauri said. “Indeed, you may call it that if you wish.”
“Evershore,” I said, glancing at the ocean again. “That seems fitting.” Though Alanik seemed somewhat alarmed that the kitsen knew her by name.
“Thank you, human,” Kauri said.
“You’re…a friend of Spensa’s?” I asked. “But you knew her as Alanik.”