Fire Sanctuary

by Katharine Eliska Kimbriel

  “In the traditional manner?” Braan asked.

  “Yes.” She gave him a direct glance with her clear grey eyes. “He turned out to be a powerful Axis councilmember, and he was not amused. He sought my arrest, or death, so—”

  “But that’s against the code!” the blonde commando burst in. “I know it’s not law, but if you cheat a hustler, you deserve what you—”

  “My word against his?” Teloa interrupted, knowing him as Lyte by his voice. He paused, and looked as if he might speak again. Then he shook his head, turning to inspect the visible city. “I asked for transportation to the nearest sanctuary. I don’t even—I didn’t know where I was headed,” she finished, aware she had a professional habit to leave behind, and quickly. There was a long pause.

  “Kal, send for a temple minister.” One of the youths quickly ducked into a narrow alley and disappeared. Braan turned back to Teloa. “You must stay at the temple until the ship leaves port, in case some of the off-world crew ‘objects’ to your sanctuary.”

  “Who let you on board?” the duty officer demanded. Teloa was silent.

  “That would not be fair to expose such an ... honorable, selfless, deed.” Teloa forced herself not to react to Braan’s voice; to the dry, almost hollow sound. It was as if he knew her brother Tyr had abandoned her. The duty officer became offensive again. “Punch up a one-way ticket, man,” Braan said abruptly. “You know you will be paid.” The off-worlder departed toward the ticket point. Kalith returned and nodded to Braan, who indicated that the other men should wait for him outside. Then he walked over to the high rock wall, a soft mustard moss covering its rugged black side. There was a bench carved out of the same stone, and he indicated that Teloa could sit if she wished. The guards remained by the pillars, watching the duty officer prepare the ticket.

  “The temple ministers will have some other clothes for you, and a hot tub. Have you ever had any ... other skills? It is not necessary, but you could become bored here quickly,” Braan continued, adjusting a small votive candle in a wall sconce.

  “I was a planter on Capricorn V, before the bombs fell,” she answered steadily.

  “We always have need of planters. Stay as long as you wish.” Stay as long as you wish? That was not what her brother had implied. Suddenly the duty officer reappeared and thrust a small support slab in front of Braan. Braan eyed the man a moment—the off-worlder looked away. The Nualan picked up the sconce candle and dripped some wax on the slab. As he read the recording he removed the ring on his finger and rolled it in the wax. “I believe you know where to be reimbursed?” The officer, a bit sour, nodded and returned to his ramp, carefully avoiding the guards. Braan glanced down the alley against the wall and turned to Teloa.

  “Your name is ... ?”

  “Tele—Teloa. I was Teloa—Tay, to family,” she managed to get out.

  “I am Braan of Atare. Welcome.” He flashed her a gentle smile so charming she returned it despite her fear. He turned and seemed momentarily surprised to see the woman who stepped forward. She wore an ankle-length white dress of some obscure natural fiber, corseted in a rich, dark sienna brown of the same material, only heavier. The brown lined her dress, peeping out of the long, slit sleeves, hood and side slit. Looking closer, Tay saw that the rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed, crimson blonde was almost as tall as she, bearing a beauty mature yet fresh. Perhaps thirty, thirty-two terrayears?

  “I am Dr. Elana. You are ... Teloa? Can you walk?” the woman asked, offering support.

  Teloa tentatively reached for her hand, calming her inner shaking. “I can walk.” Remembering her manners, she turned to Braan and, wrapping herself in the shreds of her dignity, said, “Thank you.” Braan nodded, and the Nualan woman led her away.

  oOo

  Braan walked briskly to the solar car and hopped in. The guaard in the driver’s seat punched up the numbers of the palace, and the car began to move.

  “How do you know she wasn’t lying?” Lyte asked.

  “We know,” Kavan offered. They drove on in silence.

  AMURA

  SEXT

  In a daze Teloa was led down into the center of the city. Pedestrians thronged around her, and she found herself still tall, but not excessively so—most Nualan men were at least her height. Genetically altered to be so? she wondered, and all her fears crept back. She kept her gaze on the buildings—strange buildings—or on the flagstone road, avoiding the interested and admiring looks of the men. She felt dirty, ugly and exhausted, and, at the least, a man was responsible for her current problems. A man had also remedied them, at least temporarily. Perhaps she could call that a fair trade. It was too much to think about. She understood this was an older section of the city—what city was this?—and that no building seemed to be over four stories. Everything was stone, and she was aware of towers. She felt so tired, so confused.

  They left the narrow walkway and stepped out into a wide open space, grass-covered and thick with late-blooming flowers, bushes and trees whose leaves were just beginning to darken to a greenish indigo. Off to the right, among dark trees, a small lake sparkled. Above the tall, strange foliage was an incredible brilliance, as if the afternoon star had settled onto the hill in the center of the city’s park. Tay gasped as she realized the source.

  There were other buildings within the Axis alliance with more gold-and-silver inlay, more jewels; taller, more extensive, even more ancient. None had the starkly simple and majestic tones of the Mendülarion, the temple of Mendülay. It was unlike any existing building—totally unlike secular Nualan architecture.

  “It is impressive, is it not?” the woman agreed. “I forget how it affects visitors to our world. The Mendülarion is white marble, the roof gold. It is empty except for a few tiny candles, lit to signify a birth, marriage or death, or occasionally a milestone in someone’s life. The priests and priestesses are often seen there, busy with personal prayers or special requests. And there are no locks on the doors; citizens can spend the night if they feel the invisible pull of Mendülay.”

  Elana led Teloa to an area directly below and to one side of the temple where they found a moving, snake-like metal runner. It seemed to have no track or containment, yet moved smoothly along at a moderate pace.

  “Stand in the center,” the woman told her. “Do not catch your heels underneath!” Teloa leapt and landed in the center. It felt good to stop walking; tiring to stand. Elana noticed. “The catwalk will take us beneath the temple to the living quarters. There are some guest rooms there, and you can sleep as long as you wish.”

  The catwalk was totally silent, hence its name. Teloa looked down to see she was now standing on a step, and the walkway was moving swiftly uphill, approaching a small tunnel. Had she stepped from flat to stairs, or had the runner created its own stairway? She was almost positive she had not moved, so the runner must have done it for her. Good gods, she hadn’t even noticed....

  “You keep your poise well. Most people are a bit unnerved by the catwalk the first time they ride it,” the Nualan said suddenly as they entered the tunnel.

  “I—noticed a change,” Teloa answered, not sure her statement made sense. Elana either did not notice, or pretended not to—she indicated that Teloa should step off on an upcoming platform. Tay jumped again, to avoid catching her decorative heels, and watched the sheen of the walk as it passed, like a river of silver amphibians.

  “Do not look too closely! You could become dizzy,” Elana counseled, leading Teloa into the depths of the hill. They entered a wide natural-stone corridor lit by shafts leading to the surface. The area was cool but not cold. Teloa’s guide stopped at a panel and pressed its corner. It was immediately lit, revealing a color-coded set of block catacombs, most of the cubes having a yellow dot in their center. “One of the suites for visiting dignitaries is vacant, you are in luck! Sheer luxury. Come.” She led off down the corridor.

  Had Tay been alone, she would have become lost in the bewildering maze of rough white stairs and walkways, althoug
h she noticed several blank panels and assumed they were also maps of some kind. Finally the woman reached tall double doors and opened them.

  “Welcome.” Elana walked straight ahead to the opposite wall, and the distance was not short. She opened another set of tall double doors and stepped into brilliant starlight, which was just beginning to angle past the doorsill. As Tay walked into the room she discovered that the living quarters were built right into the side of the hill. Looking out the doorway she saw the mountains, their foothills covered with homes. For a moment she said nothing; she had never seen mountains. She could think of no words grand enough. Teloa tore her gaze away at the sound of running water. A small, enclosed garden was off to one side, lit, as was the room, by more shafts. A fountain set in the wall bubbled merrily. She breathed deeply of the scent—lush, exotic plants whose names she did not know.

  “Do you like it?” the woman asked with a smile. Tay smiled in return, her look taking in the high, deep ceiling arches, her fingers lingering on the rough-hewn walls of stone. “The fireroses are in bloom, and they bring a heady scent to the arboretum. Come and look.” The woman led Teloa into the garden, stopping under the sky shaft. Tay stood in the warm starlight, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation. So long since she had felt natural heat ... Between the star and the murmur of the water ... even the odor of the plants conspired to put her to sleep. Many of the indoor trees were taller than she, and the variety of colors ranged from soft yellow-greens through blues and purples. One plant had brilliant yellow and orange blossoms. Elana reached out to touch a vine, and Teloa followed her example. So long since she had worked with living things ...

  “You do that as if you know plants,” Elana said gently, walking back into the main room and heading for a sunken tub.

  “I was a planter once—in the Caprican system,” Tay answered vaguely, following the Nualan to the sanitation. She touched the wooden hot tub, studying the marble facilities.

  “Look, Teloa, this is hot and this cold, and you may blend them by—where are the sands?” Tay was startled until she realized the woman’s question was of general puzzlement and not directed toward her guest. “As I was saying, the water will circulate on its own and automatically shuts off when your weight is removed from the bottom. Do not worry about all the water; it goes straight to irrigation. I shall get you some towels and some bath sands. I must apologize for the lack of sands and oil—all four grades of sand are to be kept here at all times. I shall have to report it to Draü. What with the festival and feast, she is much too busy to monitor the younger priests and priestesses who keep these rooms stocked. But is important to her, all the same.” At the question in Teloa’s eyes Elana continued: “Draü is the high priestess, and her days are very full, but she has greeted the newcomers to our world since she was an initiate, and she is still very concerned about the comfort of our guests. I shall tell my godson, her eldest, and he will carry the message.”

  “Is ... her husband a priest? I had forgotten the clergy of Nuala marry,” Tay asked, sitting on the edge of the double bed.

  “Her firsthusband is a scientist, her second High Priest Arrez, as is our law. She is the second wife of Arrez.”

  “Second?”

  “Yes. He has four.”

  Tay digested this information. “A ... healthy man indeed,” she managed. She was startled by Elana’s silver laughter.

  “Not exactly, although he is a 20. He married me because he loved me, Draü because he was appointed High Priest, and, as I said, it is our law. Mariah because her prophesies are disturbing and often violent, and only he and I can deal with her. And Chaka, out of sheer ... cussedness, as our ancestors once said. I shall get the towels and sand and be right back. Play with the tub as you wish!” She quickly and silently slipped out of the room. Tay turned slightly and looked out the thermapane windows at the dazzling soft yellow light. She ached all over, and wondered if lying in the star’s rays would help. It was a young world, she decided. Capricorn V had been young. Her thoughts swirled back to the hot agra planet, its fertile fields stretching to the horizon, the glittering irrigation canals opening their wash gates. Her parents’ pride when she was appointed Assistant Planter, her younger brother Telen’s enthusiasm. Older sister Meer had desired only to leave the planet, and brother Tyr was always confused. Then the luna bombs came, the whistling luna bombs—and it was ambitious Meer who stayed, forever, and naive Teloa who became the wanderer. She had not seen Telen since the halfway camp, when she had given him her last hundred cubiz to aid his attempts to enter a trade. Being guildless, he had a small chance to build a new life. She wondered if he still lived. He’d be almost twenty terrayear now, and if he thought her dead ...

  The exhaustion, the release of tension hit her like a tremendous weight, and she was crying, a torrent of tears, almost hysterically, something she had not allowed herself since the luna bombs devastated Capricorn V. Teloa did not hear the door open and did not protest the firm and gentle embrace she was drawn into; she was merely aware of years of pain and frustration, and memories that could never be anything else. Finally her shaking began to subside.

  “It will get better, child. By Mendülay’s grace you are alive, and the dawn will come. Let your heart be lightened.” Through her tears Teloa saw long slender hands pushing her hair out of her face. Elana was smiling. “I think you will be better able to see the brightness of the day after a hot tub and some rest. Are you hungry?”

  “Maybe—a little. I am so tired. And I ache terribly.”

  Elana lifted several bottles. “Found! And we shall get you into a tub right away.” She studied the Caprican’s face intently, and then asked, “You have not tasted the water, have you? You look pale.”

  “No,” Teloa said quickly. She knew enough about Nuala to refrain from that, no matter how thirsty she was. “But I need some water.” Her voice faded as she looked closely at the sand bottles. “Oh, I couldn’t. I mean—” She looked up at Elana in amazement. “These are worth a week’s salary each! I—“

  “Not here. We make it here, and it is as cheap as gill soap. You are free of import taxes for the duration of your stay! Now, get in and soak, and I shall bring you some saffra and your first pill. You must not drink or eat anything without first taking a pill, and your first fiveday here, eat only what I bring you! The radiation content of some of our foods could make you very sick. I am a doctor, and I shall bring my bag—I have a simple monitor that can determine your general health almost immediately. The water is safe for you to bathe in, please enjoy it. I shall be awhile this time.” Elana dumped several capfuls of oil into the tub, and then vanished again. Tay sat a moment, watching volumes of bubbles appear, letting her mind go blank. Then she slipped off what was left of her shoes. Carefully lining up the sand bottles, she removed the dark, cowled dress and lowered herself into the tub.

  She discovered a wide ledge around the perimeter of the wooden bath. Sitting down, she reveled in the hot water, letting it soak to the chill of her bones. She had to shake herself awake, and reached for the sand. How good to scrub away the dirt, the feel of everything before ...

  A sharp stomach cramp sliced through her, and she seized the edge of the tub to steady herself. Gods, what was wrong? She had not touched the water, nor any food—no food in days. Hunger? It hurt too much to be hunger. Hustlers did not get sick. They died from alcohol or drugs or knives, but they did not become sick. An awful thought began to form in Teloa’s mind. Narcotic dependency ... palus, opiates, coca, ltima—any or all of them had probably been slipped into her drinks at one time or another. How much? Enough so that she’d show her dependency in two or three days? Suddenly she was frightened.

  Forcing herself to continue, Teloa slowly washed her hair as well, living an old fantasy to wash all over in extra fine Silva Sand. Then she crawled out of the tub, wrapping herself in the thick towels. The shaking would not stop.

  There was a light rap of knuckles on the door. “Tay? I am coming in.”

/>   “Please—“ Elana stepped over the threshold, a tray in her arms and a shapeless bag tossed over her shoulder. She took one look at the off-worlder and set the tray down on the dresser.

  “What is wrong? Where is the pain?” Elana asked as she came to her side.

  “My stomach—all over. I—am cold—“ Tay gasped, shaking violently. Elana touched her forehead a moment.

  “No, not cold. A fever. And you have not drunk any water, it is not rav—”

  “I haven’t! I swear it —” Tay said frantically, her voice cut off by another spasm.

  “Rav is radiation poison by ingestion,” Elana told her. “I can see you have not. Teloa, have you ever used ... euphorics? I know they sometimes get into things....” The doctor was polite but firm in her need for information.

  “Not by choice—but you never—“ She doubled over. “You never know what a patron might have put into a drink.”

  “Try to reach the bed. You need to lie down until the fever burns itself out. I can ease the pain, and it will pass. Our people are passionate and often foolish but never that stupid—you cannot find drugs here, they will not tempt you.” Elana helped her to her feet and to the bed. “I can stop the shaking, but you will be in bed several days. That is all right!” Tay sensed she was trying to ease any worry her new patient had. “There is little to do during festival. As a new immigrant, you would have to stay inside most of the time. Now you can relax and read tapes and listen to music. I can find a few visitors for you and explain things when our people confuse you—” Tay gasped again, this time from the air hypo Elana shot into her arm. Then the woman quickly scanned her with a small metal object. “I have seen worse, but that is no comfort. Drink this, the rav pill is already in it. We can take no chances.” Tay downed the fluid, conscious of its acid edge, herbs and pulp floating in its opaque, red body. Elana pushed her down onto soft pillows and pulled a light blanket up around her. “Rest. I shall stay with you awhile, and then one of my healers shall come. Do not think you will die—I never lose patients! If we must, I shall seek Ronüviel, and she will draw the fever out. Just rest—soon the pain will pass, and you can seek a home and work.” Her cool fingertips rested on the young woman’s forehead a moment. “Rest ... Nualans have great skill with green things; even our deserts grow lush under Cied hands. But our ecology is very fragile. We always have need of planters.”