Epilogue

"There," Remma said, pointing over Sol's shoulder. "Do you see those dark shapes in the water? That's the mother-kin."

"There's so many of them," Sol said, leaning toward the window. "Wow."

"Pods can get pretty big if the matriline doesn't split. Mine had about thirty."

"Do you think you'll get to see them?"

"I hope so. Merru said he would put the word out about our visit. So maybe they'll come in to shore."

The shuttle glided lower. The Xerca pilot, silent throughout the trip, continued to say nothing as he—she? It? Sol wasn't sure—guided the shuttle toward the shore and the landing pad below. Sol didn't mind. He was grateful to the ship's indulgent crew for so generously bringing him and Remma all the way to Tozra. And the ship was happy, back with its own people. If the Xerca didn't want to talk to him, that was their right.

The shuttle landed with a gentle shiver. The pilot gestured toward the hatch behind them, which began to lower.

"Many thanks," Remma said. "We'll see you in a month."

The pilot inclined its head. Remma and Sol grabbed their bags and went out.

Sol's first impression was of bright sun and heat. The air was warm as it had been on the ship when the pirates had it—warmer, maybe. Gravity on Tozra was slightly but noticeably stronger than on Mirolasor's moon, and Sol's feet felt heavy as he followed Remma off the landing pad. Trees surrounded the pad, waving in the breeze, and beyond that was the town, low buildings painted in bright primary colors.

Behind a metal barrier waited a crowd of Tozren males, all of them waving and calling out: Remma's land-kin, his brother and nephews, uncles and cousins. Sol hung back, feeling shy, as Remma greeted everyone with much hugging and back-slapping, not to mention a few tears. Sol had been working hard on his Tozrai, but everyone was talking at the same time, and too quickly for him to pick out more than a few words. They were all happy: he could tell that much.

"And here's Sol," Remma said at length, stepping back to draw Sol forward.

"It's my honor to greet you in friendship," Sol said, words he had carefully rehearsed during the journey from Mirolasor.

Everyone beamed. "His Tozrai is so good!" one of the younger cousins exclaimed to Remma.

"He's been working hard," Remma said. His hand squeezed Sol's shoulder. "Now let's get out of the sun before he passes out."

They would be staying with Remma's brother Merru for the duration of their visit. He lived in a small, tidy house right in the heart of the town, simply furnished and filled with the art he made, sculptures of abstract but lovely organic shapes. They waited out the heat of the day there, and in the evening they walked down to the harbor. Little boats with dyed red sails lined the quays, and past that was the open ocean dotted with islands, water the color of the sky at home on the most perfect cloudless spring days.

Beyond the quays, where the water grew deeper, dark shapes surfaced and slid beneath again. "There they are," Remma said, pointing. "Let's see if it's really my kin."

Remma went quickly down to the shore, eagerly, leaving Sol behind. Sol didn't hurry to follow. He watched Remma clamber over the edge of the dock onto a long spit of damp sand that extended out into the water. The dark shapes turned toward him, coming to meet him. Sol stood on the long pier and watched as Remma waded out into the water, waist-deep, arms extended toward the vast creature that slid up to him easy as a dream and let him skim his hands along its side.

Remma turned to look for him. He was beaming. "Come on," he called out. "It's them."

Sol couldn't swim, but he waded out anyway, to his ankles and then to his knees. The water was still and calm, and warm as a bath. Feeling very brave, he went deeper, up to his waist and then his chest. Remma would save him, probably, if he went under.

Remma drew him close and held him with one arm around his waist. "This is my aunt," he said, stroking the creature with his other hand.

"How do you know?"

"Oh—well, the shape of the dorsal fin, and the markings along the side here. And she's got this scar on her side where she scraped against some coral once. It's easy to tell. It's just her, it's what she looks like."

"Sure," Sol said, skeptical. He reached out one tentative hand and brushed his fingertips against the creature's side. It was smooth and warmer than he would have expected.

"I'm sure my mother's here," Remma said. He turned his head, searching the waters. "Somewhere."

The aunt slid away. Another dark shape approached to replace her, and Remma's smile grew until it cracked open into tears. "That's her," he said. "Oh, Sol."

He let go of Sol's waist and waded forward to meet his mother as she drew near. Her head lifted from the water for a moment, her great dark eye fixed on Sol before she turned again toward her son. She ran right into him, bumping her nose into his belly, and he laughed and went down into the water with a splash.

Sol didn't call out, even though he felt the urge. Remma could swim. He would be fine.

Remma surfaced again after a few seconds. He clung to his mother's flipper, stroking her side with tears running down his face. "Hi, Mom," he said. He turned to Sol, smiling wide enough to show every sharp point of his teeth. "I've brought someone to meet you."

THE END