Coll didn’t understand what she meant. Constructs fought and that was it. But she seemed serious.
“I hate it,” she said. “The fighting, the hurting… Technology is just a tool, you don’t have to believe in it! It’s not supposed to be like this. That signal I picked up – I don’t know what it is, or what it means, but whoever is sending it is far more powerful than us. Maybe they know something we don’t.
“So I’ll help you get back to Wolf, if she’s still—” She coughed. “I’ll help you get back to Wolf. But then I’m going to find that signal.”
She gazed up at the stars, her face set and determined.
“And perhaps I’ll find a better way to live.”
They started packing the next morning: the food they’d salvaged from Raven, tools, a couple of zappers, blankets, as much as Cub could carry.
It wasn’t much. Cub was small compared to Wolf, only the size of one of the houses in Scatter. And there was something different about him today, Coll thought. Had his legs shrunk overnight? His head become larger compared to his body? His tail was definitely stubbier, and his body rounder…
Fillan staggered past him, heaving a canister of water, his short legs tottering as he moved, and suddenly Coll realised. This morning Cub looked younger. Not a small Wolf – a Wolf cub.
“Of course,” said Rieka, when he asked. “It’s nominative determinism.”
“Um,” said Coll.
Rieka looked at him as if, yet again, he had managed to surprise her with his stupidity. “We call it ‘Cub’,” she said. “In our heads the word ‘cub’ means ‘baby wolf’. So overnight it’s absorbed that idea and adapted. You give something a name, that’s what it starts to become in your head.”
“But that’s no good!” protested Coll. “We can’t be going around in an actual wolf cub; how will we fight?” He shook his head. “‘Cub’ is a stupid name, we need something like, like ‘Beast’ – or ‘Killer’!”
Rieka sighed. “It doesn’t matter, Coll. It’s too small to fight anyway. It’s just a way to get to Wolf. Now give me a hand with these crates.”
“It does matter,” grumbled Coll, heaving more stuff on board. “We’re Wolf.”
When everything was stowed, they climbed up to the little deck on Cub’s back and strapped themselves in.
“What happens now?” asked Brann.
“We join the Call again,” said Rieka. “And then we just … walk. The Construct will handle things, just like on Wolf.”
“OK,” said Coll, trying to sound confident. “Ready?”
They nodded, and Coll closed his eyes. He listened to the deck below him, just like on Wolf. There it was – that tiny vibration, the shared song. He let himself sink into it and felt it around him: the beating silver blood of the Construct…
I am Wolf.
Cub stood on short shaky legs. Pistons hummed and hydraulics whined as he turned his head, and power came in little bursts as his crew tried to stay in harmony.
I am Wolf. Wolf. Or … Cub? Am I Cub?
“Wolf!” shouted Coll to the others. “Not ‘Cub’, ‘Wolf’! Remember!”
“But he’s called ‘Cub’,” said Fillan, looking confused.
“He should be Raven,” hissed Brann, and suddenly Coll felt the Construct remember wings and the tips of feathers and the perfect whisper of air currents lifting him up… “WOLF!” he roared.
Brann grumbled, but the image of wings faded.
I am Wolf.
“All right,” said Coll. “We’re going to walk now, nice and easy. Ready … go.”
Cub pushed forward with his back legs, spread his front legs wide and tipped straight down on to his face.
“Argh!” shouted Rieka.
Fillan squealed and grabbed his straps.
Cub heaved himself back to his feet and shook his head. Coll tried to figure out what had happened.
“OK,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “We’ll try that again, but this time let’s all remember that wolves have four legs.”
“It’s not my fault!” said Brann. “Four is a stupid number of legs! It’s so complicated! I don’t even know which goes first!”
“It’s obvious!” snapped Coll. He pointed to the legs in turn. “Left-back left-front right-back right-front, one-two-three-four, everyone knows that!”
Fillan nodded and Brann’s face turned red.
“Not everyone,” said Rieka. Her voice was soft but she was glaring at Coll.
Coll clenched his fists. “All right,” he said after a few seconds. “No. If you’d spent your life on a … a bird, you might not know that. Let’s try again.”
