Page 60 of Experimental Voyage
“This is not normal,” I informed the Deltan, who laughed at my statement.
“Your beauties are much smarter than horses. They do not have rocks for brains. They’re not sentient like we categorize it, but they’re definitely up there for intellect. They watched me ride Cobalt, and Plague understood what was going on. Pestilence picked it up rather quickly, too. We’ll have to test them for sentience. If they are, it’ll be complicated. Caring for sentient races is always complicated, especially when they’re incapable of learning any bipedal languages.” Andret came over, praised Pestilence, and stroked his nose, taking hold of his lead line and urging him to step forward. The death horse did as told, shuffling into a walk. “We’ll treat Plague’s hoof issue in the next few days, and she should be sound to carry a rider within twoweeks. We’ll try them on hackamores, as I doubt it would be a good idea to try a bit on an animal that might view a rider as lunch.”
“Let’s not experiment with that. I like my hands where they’re at, attached to my body.”
“Respecting the animal you’re working with is important.”
Plague whinnied, and she shuffled into a trot, joining me and thrusting her head my way. Smiling, I petted her. “You’re such a good girl. You’ll get your turn soon, okay? You need to feel better first.”
“If you can give me an hour a day, I can get you and these lovelies ready for travel. I think they’ll take to being ridden like fish take to water.”
An hour a day might cost me my sanity, but it would be worth it, especially as the tree cats would likely live their lives out on the world in a massive menagerie designed to mimic their natural habitat.
Unlike my death horses, they insisted on resisting domestication.
“I’ll make an hour a day,” I promised.
The school would not defeat me, and when it was time to return to the stars, my death horses would be ready to go with me.
TWENTY
I was her human, and that was that.
School resumed,life went on, and had I known I would hate everything about being landlocked, I would have hidden on board Waldren’s ship and lived the rest of my life as a starfaring stowaway. I would have reduced myself to hiding in Waldren’s quarters, latching on to him, and refusing to let go.
Taking my death horses with me would have been a challenge—and would still be a challenge, assuming I could escape the grounds long enough to make it to the spaceport. The requirement to care for Plague and Pestilence offered some hope of escape, assuming I could give the staff the slip.
In the weeks following our arrival, Plague had healed, and she defined what it meant to be jealous.
I was her human, and that was that. She tolerated Pestilence, and given some time, I’d have to worry about caring for a baby death horse. Fortunately for my sanity, one of my professors had done research on the species, which had been registered before the doomed colonization attempt.
Plague would carry her foal for sixteen months, and the little one would enter the world ready to take over the universe.According to the information sheet, my mare would be capable of space travel until twelve months into gestation, after which we’d be landlocked until her foal was four months old.
At four months old, the foal would be weaned.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much information available on their natural lifespan.
Death horses, officially known asequus ferus carnivorus,had been developed specifically for the colonization attempt, and the first generation hadn’t been given the time needed to expose their complete life cycle.
If I wanted to leave Cremora Delta, I would need to do so within the next six months.
At least I wouldn’t have to worry about the tree cats. A zoo had expressed interest in learning about the species and wished to handle all breeding efforts. In exchange, I would be given a pair of female kittens, assuming the zoo was able to domesticate them.
At current estimate, it would take at least ten generations to convince the stubborn furballs to cooperate with humanity.
The morning following the completion of the class cycle, armed with more certifications than any onehomo sapiensneeded, I fled to the stables carrying several saddlebags, a common enough occurrence nobody questioned my activity. Should any of the staff spot me, they would make the assumption that I meant to spend my free day with Plague and Pestilence in the pasture. At dinner time, they would begin searching for me.
Rather than lunch and my botany journals, which I used to register and study Cremora Delta’s offerings, I had everything of importance, including my baubles, my books, copies of my certifications, my link chips, and everything else I needed to run away to space.
Thanks to Viva, I had access to my money, the knowledge needed to pay off the first viable ship capable of hauling my death horses, and the designation of my target world, Veloci Major.
The last I’d heard, I’d been registered to join the brawl scheduled to take place on the world, and I meant to be in attendance to fully enjoy the festivities. I’d arrive several months early, and I’d spend the time evading Veloc, working with my animals, and otherwise enjoying the freedom to come and go as I pleased.
I even planned on a voyage to a shiftgem world to see if I could learn more about the shard embedded in my brain.
The situation vexed the Deltans.
The stone I carried could, at its whim, deactivate any other shiftgem to cross its path. It only did so when it perceived a threat to me. It could stop resonance in its tracks with ruthless efficiency.
