thin whiskers on either side of its nose, while Llipel had no whiskers or tail. Its mouth was too wide, its face was narrower in shape, and its ears stuck out from its head instead of lying flat against it.
“It is not one of my kind. It was in another part of the cold room. A voice called it an animal subject. It was not in a chamber like yours but lay in an enclosed cell next to others of its kind. Other strange creatures are there as well.”
Nita knelt next to the small animal. “Should you have taken it?”
“I questioned the voice carefully. It said that the purpose of these creatures was to see if they could live again after being taken from their cold cells. I thought there could be no harm in bringing one to you. It is called a cat.”
The cat lapped at the milk. Nita sat down next to it, entranced. “Does it have a name?”
“I did not hear one.”
“A cat,” Nita said. The cat sprawled next to her and poked at the air with its tiny paws.
“The voice said that some of your kind lived with these creatures, but they cannot speak and think as you do. I have asked how to care for it and learned what I could before reviving it. You wanted a friend. Will you be satisfied now?”
“I think so,” Nita said, trying to believe that she had a new friend at last. Llipel must have been planning this surprise for some time. She would show her guardian that she was grateful. Llipel, she supposed, only wanted what was best for her; she would try to remember that.
4
One of the west wing’s doors was open. Nita had been unable to sleep and had come to the cafeteria for some food; she noticed the open door as she was about to sit down near the windows. She set down her tray and stared at the narrowing band of light until the door slid shut.
That same door had opened the day before, when she was in the garden waiting for Llipel. That day had marked the beginning of Nita’s fifteenth year of life, and Llipel had gone to fetch some of Nita’s favorite foods from the cafeteria. The door had closed again before Nita could reach it.
Llare must have opened it. Nita moved closer to the windows. Why was Llipel’s companion hiding behind the door instead of speaking to her over the screen?
The door was opening again; Nita squinted, unable to see clearly through the darkness. Part of a head was silhouetted against the light for a moment, as though Llare had stooped to peer out, and then the light vanished. She thought of waking Llipel to ask her what Llare might be doing, but dismissed the thought. Llipel slept only every three or four nights but, when she did, was groggy if awakened too soon.
Llipel would not want her near the west wing. Her guardian had been quite firm about that yesterday during their celebration, when Nita had again begged her to allow more readings from the library or a chance to explore more of the Institute and its grounds. Llipel allowed her more freedom only grudgingly, then expected Nita to be grateful for what little she was granted. She had not shouted at her guardian so much in days, and this had been the worst of her recent outbursts.
She sat down, trying to decide what to do. She had caused Llipel enough trouble lately, with her harsh remarks and her sulking. She could not even feel sorry about that. Being calm and reasonable gained her little, since that only made Llipel think things were fine as they were. She wondered if her moods had something to do with the changes that had come to her.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Beate had told her nearly two years before. Nita was not reassured by the image’s customary smile. She had been speaking to Beate more often since her body, instead of simply growing taller, had begun to change in unexpected ways.
“Are you sure?” Nita asked.
“You’ve read some of the biology records,” Beate responded, “yet it seems you haven’t understood them as well as you should have. You’re starting to become a
“It is not one of my kind. It was in another part of the cold room. A voice called it an animal subject. It was not in a chamber like yours but lay in an enclosed cell next to others of its kind. Other strange creatures are there as well.”
Nita knelt next to the small animal. “Should you have taken it?”
“I questioned the voice carefully. It said that the purpose of these creatures was to see if they could live again after being taken from their cold cells. I thought there could be no harm in bringing one to you. It is called a cat.”
The cat lapped at the milk. Nita sat down next to it, entranced. “Does it have a name?”
“I did not hear one.”
“A cat,” Nita said. The cat sprawled next to her and poked at the air with its tiny paws.
“The voice said that some of your kind lived with these creatures, but they cannot speak and think as you do. I have asked how to care for it and learned what I could before reviving it. You wanted a friend. Will you be satisfied now?”
“I think so,” Nita said, trying to believe that she had a new friend at last. Llipel must have been planning this surprise for some time. She would show her guardian that she was grateful. Llipel, she supposed, only wanted what was best for her; she would try to remember that.
4
One of the west wing’s doors was open. Nita had been unable to sleep and had come to the cafeteria for some food; she noticed the open door as she was about to sit down near the windows. She set down her tray and stared at the narrowing band of light until the door slid shut.
That same door had opened the day before, when she was in the garden waiting for Llipel. That day had marked the beginning of Nita’s fifteenth year of life, and Llipel had gone to fetch some of Nita’s favorite foods from the cafeteria. The door had closed again before Nita could reach it.
Llare must have opened it. Nita moved closer to the windows. Why was Llipel’s companion hiding behind the door instead of speaking to her over the screen?
The door was opening again; Nita squinted, unable to see clearly through the darkness. Part of a head was silhouetted against the light for a moment, as though Llare had stooped to peer out, and then the light vanished. She thought of waking Llipel to ask her what Llare might be doing, but dismissed the thought. Llipel slept only every three or four nights but, when she did, was groggy if awakened too soon.
Llipel would not want her near the west wing. Her guardian had been quite firm about that yesterday during their celebration, when Nita had again begged her to allow more readings from the library or a chance to explore more of the Institute and its grounds. Llipel allowed her more freedom only grudgingly, then expected Nita to be grateful for what little she was granted. She had not shouted at her guardian so much in days, and this had been the worst of her recent outbursts.
She sat down, trying to decide what to do. She had caused Llipel enough trouble lately, with her harsh remarks and her sulking. She could not even feel sorry about that. Being calm and reasonable gained her little, since that only made Llipel think things were fine as they were. She wondered if her moods had something to do with the changes that had come to her.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Beate had told her nearly two years before. Nita was not reassured by the image’s customary smile. She had been speaking to Beate more often since her body, instead of simply growing taller, had begun to change in unexpected ways.
“Are you sure?” Nita asked.
“You’ve read some of the biology records,” Beate responded, “yet it seems you haven’t understood them as well as you should have. You’re starting to become a
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