Children of a Foreign God

by Pam Uphoff

  Rain grinned. “And by then they were all pregnant, weren’t they?”

  “Yep. They weaned the foals early, and sent them to auction. When we heard, we all rushed out and bought them. Partly for the sheer glee of the memory, but there wasn’t a bad horse out of the bunch.”

  Ryol frowned. “How old do horses get? I mean, Pyrite doesn’t look old . . .”

  “We call them the god horses, because they were engineered in the same labs that created the gods—and your Prophets. Some of them have been bubbled for long periods, but not the Old Dun. He’s fourteen centuries old. Not counting the bubbled time, Pyrite is . . . right about forty years old.”

  Rain bounced. “I want a horse I can talk to sooo badly.”

  The captain shook his head. “Your scientists would probably dissect him.”

  Her mouth rounded out in horror.

  And the show over, they drove on.

  A brief stop at the Church of Ba’al, that was really, really creepy.

  And the docks along the waterfront, smelling of dead fish, the blocks long open air market, the street of corridors, where they took one out into the chilly desert to gawp at a huge deep canyon. Steaming fumaroles down in the depths where a river ran.

  Then back to Karista and through another corridor to the Crossroads.

  “There’s no cross road.” Voyr stated the obvious. Looking up and down the wide paved road.

  “It’s the crossroads of the worlds.” The old dark man standing at the steps was clearly sub-saharan . . . and glowing, with a pit of shielded power behind it that had Ryol gasping for breath.

  “Must be another god,” she muttered.

  His eyes turned her direction and he nodded. “Yes. I’m Harry Murchison, sometimes called the God of Travelers.” His gaze shifted to the Captain. “Jek, it’s been too long. Show them the Ring World, and the Mammoths, then come back to dinner.” A grin showing perfect white teeth. “I guess your tour is the reason I told Flare to fix a lot, earlier.”

  “No doubt!” The captain waved the lead carriage onward. “Right, so this was our experimental gate area. We were very lucky to have not found any dinosaur worlds, since we hadn’t yet figured out how to close gates. So, on the left we have the gate to Arrival, the fourth Exile World . . .”

  The “Mammoth World” was blocked by heavy gates on both sides. The soldiers checked carefully, then let them cross over and gaze around. Hairy elephants, rhinos, thick necked primitive little horses. When the mammoths spotted them, Captain Lebonift hustled them back through and counted heads before he locked and barred the gates.

  “So, let’s take a ride through Ring World.”

  This time there was no gate, and they drove right through. And down a dirt road through huge oaks and out into an open plain . . .

  The captain pointed up.

  The sun was setting and . . .

  “Those aren’t clouds. Those are rings. Like Saturn’s.”

  They sat out and watched the sunset, and the sharp line across the rings as the light was eclipsed. Once the sun was down they could see a reddish glow, with little bright sparkles.

  “The red is the reflected light from Earth. The sparkles are from the moonlight. The just-past-full Moon is still quite bright. It’ll rise in a few minutes.”

  It rose from below where the dark rings intersected the horizon to the east, and crossed behind the rings, in a halo of glitter from the ice.

  Ryol looked over at her brother, suddenly realizing he hadn’t spoken in hours. He was flat in the grass grinning.

  Oh yeah. Junior Scientist Heaven.

  They finally loaded up into the carriages and drove back through the gate to Comet Fall, and the Inn. Which was full of good smells.

  The priests all sat where they could stare at the God of Travelers.

  Master Xen and Aunt Rael sat off to the side, and Harry Murchison joined them. And the woman who came out of the kitchen to talk to them had a streak of purple through her hair.

  Ryol joined some of her new siblings at the big table.

  The turkey dinner was fantastic, the cherry pie hot from the oven with vanilla ice cream melting all over it.

  A roaring fire in the huge fireplace, candles on the tables and a few lanterns . . . it was storybook cozy. Ryol hated getting back into her coat and back into the carriages. But in the dark night as the horses trotted along, she could see a line of comets in the sky.

  “Are those dangerous?” Foyh huddled into her coat.

  “No. They’re already past us. The comets and associated debris cross our orbit a week or two before or after the Solstice. We slipped between groups this year. Next winter we’ll have some close enough for us to keep a close watch on them.”

  “Why are they grouped?” Ryol looked from the comets back to the captain.

  “We think, whatever happened to Hygeia originally broke it up into four large pieces, and slowed its orbital speed so the orbits became more elliptical, with perihelion just inside Earth’s orbit. The pieces were not all identically slowed, and spread out over very similar orbits as they slowly broke up. There enough ice in them to form comets, but as the ice sublimates, they shed dust and pebbles . . . sometimes substantial pieces. The breakup was recent, is astronomical terms, probably sixteen thousand years ago.

  “Now that we’ve seen Helios in action, we’re thinking a close pass and almost merge might be the initial event that caused all the tectonic activity here, and for Hygeia, perhaps a head-on collision with an asteroid that was sort of in our universe. I doubt we’ll ever really know.”

  Ryol looked up and comet watched until they pulled up at the gate and walked back through to a warm embassy night.

  ***

  The rest of the long week was solid magic.

  Exercise in the mornings, then lectures, history, magic, some magical practices that involved chanting odd little poems and songs as "charms" that could be woven together into "spells." Followed by work on the beach. Brute force introduction, then more delicate applications and control.

  Some of them were handy. Illusions, unnoticeable.

  "Please don't do it in traffic. Really." Master Xen finally got his laugh out of them.

  Telepathy. At amazing distances, that had the Princesses and Priest gawping. Again.

  Shields. Mental, and then physical. To her astonishment, the telekinesis techniques could be thinned and hardened into a shield that could stop telekinetic effects, as well as ordinary pressure, blows . . . Master Xen shot targets with Lala's gun while they took turns standing to the side and trying to shield them. Hitting the side of their shields, the momentum of the bullet had enough leverage to spin and stagger them. So they practiced anchoring their shields to the ground, angling them to deflect projectiles rather than have to absorb all the force.

  It was . . . astonishing.

  And over.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Back to Reality

  “The last day. Half a day.” Arno muttered.

  They spent the morning on the beach, reviewing a few things—mostly control, caution, and practicing on their own once they were back home.

  “You are, every single one of you, extremely powerful. Most of you have grasped power, blossomed, early. It’s going to be difficult for you, in your society, to not use many of the things I’ve shown you. Especially those of you who are known to be my kids probably get regularly teased. Showing off will be nearly irresistible.”

  “No kidding!” Jay muttered.

  “Don’t do anything dangerous. A few illusions. A very careful push. Shield yourself only if no one’s in your personal space. Better yet, don’t show that one at all.”

  Arno considered the experiments they had done with driftwood, and the many many repetitious admonitions about not cutting people’s arms off . . . Yeah.

  “All of you have some dimensional ability. There’s not much you can do, right now. As you mature all of your abilities will grow and expand. And like all kids, you won’t know what y
ou’re really capable of for decades.

  “You boys with the One power gene will fit in best with the other High Oners. Take the classes, learn those techniques. They should mesh well with your power type. The dimensional ability won’t affect that. It’s a side talent, so to speak. One I’ll help you develop as far as you are able—if you want. This is something you control, that you can decide for yourself, and if you don’t want to, you can change your mind later. I’m not shutting you out. You can always come back.

  “With no strings. You’re Oners, not Fallen, and I respect your loyalty to the Empire.”

  Wow. Yeah, he never did try to recruit any of us. I guess maybe it was respect rather than rejection.

  “You girls with the double One power gene will be strong, not just because of your count, but because of all those other genes of the Prophets. The dimensional ability aside, you’ll be magically powerful, and able to do pretty much whatever you wish.

  “And again, I’ll teach you as much as I can, when and if you want it. Your choice.”

  The man paced down to their end.

  “You eight have the extra power genes that I expect will allow you to make bags, corridors and possibly gates. We’ll see. And I’ll see you back soon, and as often as is practical. As you wish. You eight will be getting the most pressure, not just from your government, but others. And businesses will be actively recruiting as soon as they realize your potential.”

  The man looked a little worried. “Be careful. Understate what you can do, for now. I suspect you’ll be tested regularly. And I’ll see you back here, whenever you want to come.

  “If you have trouble call me. I owe you . . . And now that I know you, I care about you.”

  ***

  "I can't believe how much I can do, now." Ryol hauled her bag out toward the waiting limo. I want to go home and collapse for a month . . . and then come back. I wonder if they'll let me? Us.

  Gior nodded. "This has been the most incredible week. I think my head exploded about halfway through."

  Lala dragged out, looking woe-be-gone. Then glanced up when Master Xen stepped in front of her. Looked back down at the ground. He knelt.

  "Lala? Are you all right? Do those foster parents care about you?"

  Lala shook her head. "The clan pays them. No one else wants me."

  "I want you. Will you stay here with me."

  A flood of tears. The girl flung her arms around the man's neck. Nodding.

  Princess Diuc swept up to them. "Don't be ridiculous. Laar is of the One. You can't take her."

  "Yes I can." He stared the princess in the eye for a second. And disappeared. Literally. Taking Lala with him.

  Izmo stormed off to the Disco building.

  Diuc cursed, apologized, explained that kidnapping was not going to be permitted.

  But she had a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

  Oooo! I think she’s plotting something! Or . . . the One is.

  ***

  Arno hated going home. Gave Night a last scratch.

  " . . . can't believe they just let those horses roam." Diuc was heading his direction. Stomping.

  Arno turned and walked away from the horse. Climbed into the back of the limo. Scowled out the window all the way back to Paris.

  Where they wrote up reports on what they'd learned, and turned in their journals. It had been a totally magic ten days. And now he was back in the real world, and needed to get cracking on the school work.

  "You look pretty glum." Aunt Rael sat down beside him. "Not what you expected?"

  "Well . . . yes and no. I didn’t know what to expect. I mean . . . the Maze, the way they build things, the gravity power . . . The horses . . . I really didn't expect the horses. They were just incredible. And they do talk. No matter what Ryol says."

  "Not everyone can hear them. At least that's what Xen says. I wonder if boys don't have a greater affinity for them or something—although it's usually girls who go horse crazy." She shrugged. "I hear them. Anyhow, we're thinking about getting all the dimensionally talented kids back for another session. There's eight of you. We'll probably do it in a month or two."

  She looked at him, eyes worried. “Do you want to go back?”

  “I don’t know.” I don’t know that man! But that zap when he touched me, I could feel the connection. I just don’t know if I want to follow up, or let it fade away.

  ***

  Rael sat quietly and listened to all the kids, the chaperones, as they babbled about what a terrific time it had been. All the people who were here to test the kids, study them, and analyze everything were looking skeptical . . . until the kids started showing off.

  Ryol was incandescent, showing off minor spells of illusion, misdirection, unnoticeable . . . things that most people never learned unless they went to Princess School or specialized in Magical Theory at one of the few Universities that taught advanced magic. She had an impressive physical shield. It could easily stop a bullet.

  As Xen demonstrated. I don’t believe he did that!

  “She's not quite fifteen! How can she do that! A telepathic range of ten kilometers. Priests can't do that!” One magical researcher looked more horrified than excited.

  "Master Xen said stuff like our micro manipulation probably wouldn't blossom until we were older. And he said we'd grow into ways of using even more power, without overloading. And . . . and . . . I feel kind of stretched and strained." Ryol sat back, looking tired and still grinning.

  "Not surprising." Rael looked around at the kids who'd returned. "You've all just had lessons that took you in a completely different direction than any training you've had so far. And it was very intensive training."

  "Yeah. It was just amazing.” Ryol barely spared a glance for the researcher edging a microphone closer. “They use magic for so many things that we use machines for. They don't even think about it. All those cities of theirs that we hear are so primitive, medieval. They have clean running water, their sewage disposal breaks everything down to the level of three atom-molecules. All done with magic.

  “They have corridors everywhere. They just . . . take it all for granted. Magic potions for every disease imaginable, that Joy Juice that can cure practically anything, and an elixir of long life that changes the genes to the most successful of the artificial genes for longevity . . . They just . . . they don't even seem to think about it being odd. They don't really think about it at all."

  The other kids were nodding.

  One of the older boys, Jay, she'd heard him called, took over. "Like we don't think about sewage treatment, unless you're driving right by the plant. But they don't have plants, they put spells on the pipes. And one way pipes! Those were so strange. And hot spells on pipes. They don't even have hot water heaters in their houses. It's just all built-in magic."

  The other large boy snorted. "Most people don't have hot water pipes. But any place where a bunch of the magic users live does."

  "The fashions were interesting. Those were definitely medieval." Gior sniffed.

  "Or Victorian." Voyr looked wistful. "Some of the fabrics were extraordinary."

  Foyh nodded. "No synthetics, and apparently they lost cotton. Now they import it from another world."

  One boy had been pretty quiet, just following the other kids' babble. Rael shifted over toward him. "Utry, isn't it? What most impressed you?"

  "The horses. They can talk, some of them. Vero said they were the descendants of experimental horses that the gods stole when they escaped from Earth."

  Ryol rolled her eyes. "They are not telepathic. They do not 'talk.' I think those older kids were kidding you."

  "No. I heard Sunshine and Pyrite.” Utry looked stubborn, glanced back at Rael. "He's Master Xen's horse."

  Several other kids were nodding. Arno was looking a little smug. Something he can do that his sister can’t.

  "Yes, I know Pyrite, and I can hear them. I'll have to check on why only some people can hear them." Rael bit her lip and wondered if Xen woul
d give her a straight answer.

  And I'd better talk to Urfa about Laar. Orphaned, the few relatives didn't want to take in a "Native" bastard. The District had to take the Clan to court to get them to accept responsibility and then they just paid some Servaones to keep her. Xen at least accepts some responsibility.

  He didn’t try to keep my kids. Didn’t single them out as special.

  Dammit. I don’t know how he feels about them.

  ***

  Arno eyed Au . . . Biomom Rael? Whatever. But why is she so tense?

  Ryol was bouncing along beside her, happy to be given a ride home by . . . her favorite relative.

  Mine too. “So . . . what’s the problem?”

  Aunt Rael snorted. “Is it that obvious? I’m not at all wise to tell you this, but . . . I guess the family’s been keeping too many secrets for much too long.” Her sweet little bright red sports car clicked, unlocking as they walked up.

  “So . . . you know that my biomom is Aunt Kael, right?”

  “Right.” Arno’s reply was echoed by Ryol’s. “I never heard who your father was . . . is?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Kael was one of the few female Action Teamers. And the leader of a team that was assigned to Comet Fall very early on. When Earth also discovered that world . . . her team pulled some covert actions and so forth. At one point they were discovered by two agents from the Kingdom of the West. They scouted out Kael’s Team, using illusions to make them look like some of the men, and they stowed away on their transport . . .”

  Ryol’s eyes were huge. “Did she kill them?”

  Rael shook her head. “No, but at one point she caught them, and was wondering why the Info Teamers were prowling about at night. One of them whipped out a pocket flask of wine—yeah, the wine you’ve heard all about—and she assumed they were sneaking off for a drink. She snatched the flask and took a swallow and . . .”