by Jo Clayton
“Jaskarah?”
“Yes. I have a shielded conference room reserved. If you’ll come?”
“Lead the way.”
Jaskarah tapped the seal on the door, walked to the table, and sat down. “You have a question for me?”
She frowned at him a moment, wondering if he already know what she wanted, knowing at the same time she had no leeway to ask him about that. “Do you know where Lylunda Elang was taken?”
He blinked at her and she could feel his surprise. Hunk! That answers that and makes me wonder why he doesn’t know. “I don’t know the name,” he said.
“Hm. Perhaps if I put it this way. A young woman was taken aboard a particular ship on Hutsarte by instructions from an official there. She was transferred to another place. I wish to know that place.”
“Ah. That’s different. Bol Mutiar in the Callidar Pseudo Cluster. An island called Chiouti. Is there anything further?”
“Can you give me more information about this Chiouti?”
“No.”
“Then I thank you for your help and would you prefer to leave first, or shall I?”
He stood, bowed, walked to the door, unsealed it, and left. It resealed behind him, a red light blinking on the monitor.
She waited till the red blink turned green, walked away from the room, her reach sweeping out to make sure the little man wasn’t hanging about, meaning to follow her until she removed the trappings of Drina-acMorah. Remembering the implicit warning in Digby’s message, she expected to find him out there, and he was, lingering in the shadow by one of the columns, his curiosity about her overlaid with a sense of need that disturbed her-more things she had to figure out about Digby. It wouldn’t surprise her much to learn that the faux-Jaskarah didn’t know who it was pulling the strings that got him here.
Not that I know either. Who can say what Digby did to get this.
Deacon’s rules were a lot looser than Marrat’s. There were no respectable folk here, no Gray Market with citizen types coming to buy. Murder was frowned on, though duels were common enough and killing in self-defense with even the faintest of justification rated a minor fine. Theft and the false report of theft were capital offenses, with trial by verification and the sentence carried out approximately twenty seconds after the verifier extruded its report. It was not a place for the gentle and the unaware. Which meant if she trapped and zapped the little man, no one would bother noticing. He had to know that, too, so it was going to be tricky. And, she reminded herself, I’ve got watch out or he does the same to me. Don’t get too sassy, Shadow. You aren’t the champeen wizard of the universe. Just think what Lee or Harskari-woulddo to you if the need arose. Or even Autumn Rose, if she took a notion.
She clicked her tongue, shook her head. I’m getting so used to deviousness, I forget the short way. All you have to do is get back to the ship intact, Shadow. The way Digby set things up, skinface can follow you till his feet rot and bribe the Deacon’s Guards for the ship’s Shriek and he won’t know more than he does now Keep it quick and easy and let’s get out of here.
Ten gelders bought her a ’bot escort out to the tie-down, the credit chip in Drina acMorah’s name paid her mooring fee, and a few minutes later she was
‘splitting for the Callidara. It meant another month of travel, but maybe this was the last of the zigs she’d have to zag.
10
Shadith dropped the Backhoe into orbit around Bol Mutiar and breathed a sigh of relief as she finally cut the umbilical to the Dragoi. She could leave the ship parked here, hand it over to Lylunda when she got the woman offworld.
She inspected the globe turning beneath her. There was very little about the world in the memory files on the ship and she didn’t want to alert Digby just yet.
An island named Chiouti.
She watched the parade of islands sliding past below her and swore with considerable fervor. No cities, just villages, one or two to an island depending on its size. No landmasses more than fifty miles on the longest axis. Almost all of the islands in a wide band about the equator, the rest of the world wind-churned ocean. She had no local maps, not a clue which of those humps of,dirt might be called Chiouti by the people who lived there. “Looks like I unship the lander and do the lucky dip and hope I don’t have to spend the next ten years at it.”
She put the small lander down on one of the larger islands, choosing, as landing site a barren spit where the weight and heat of the lander would do least damage. When you’re ’visiting someone else’s home to ask a favor, you don’t break the furniture or kick the cat. She crawled out, circled the lander, and was pleased to see she’d made a neat set-down. Then she started walking south along the beach toward the small village nestling at the back of a halfmoon bay, trying to ignore an uneasiness that tickled at her like flies walking down her back.
She had a feeling of something watching her, measuring her-not hostile yet, but a sense of lurking danger. She tried a sweep with her reach, but there was nothing alive nearby except a few bugs in the sparse grass and shellfish under the sand.
The first people who came running to meet her were children, brown, happy, unafraid, throwing words at her she couldn’t understand as yet, though the pain in her head meant the translator was working hard to remedy that.
“A droo eoeo a mei.”
“A mei erra blyek.”
“A mehil erra tiang.”
“Diak a woman?”
“In bail like that mno er el?
“I think yes, I think she has tuttas. And look at the way she meraii.” It was the oldest of the girls; she giggled and went strutting ahead of them, shaking her small behind. After a few steps she grinned over her shoulder. “Men don’t walk like that.”
“You might be surprised, young woman,” Shadith said. The words came slowly, but they came. The accent wasn’t quite right, but she could see from the startled look on the girl’s face that she understood the words well enough.
“Then you are a man?”
“No. You had that right.”
“You come to trade?”
“I came to find an island. Chiouti. Have you ever heard of a place with that name?
“Chiouti? I don’t think so. Too bad you missed the Berotongs when they came by last month on their beronta. They sail all round the world and know just about every place.”
Shadith stopped walking. When the girl turned and came back to her, she bowed, straightened. “Blessings on you, young woman. You have saved me much trouble and travel. I will do as you say and seek out a beronta of the Berotong Pandai.”
“But you must come and eat with us. We’ll have games and stories and a fine feast to celebrate your being here.”
“I thank you for the thought, but my need is urgent. Greet your elders for me and say that I wish they would celebrate the joy that your words have brought me.” She bowed again, swung round, and ran for the lander.
“And I wasn’t exaggerating,” she told herself as she took the lander up to the edge of the atmosphere. She put the craft on autopilot and began a search of the ocean round the islands, looking for a beronta. “Which shouldn’t be so hard to spot. Big melanggas. Melanggas? Translator still on the job. Spla! Forcegrowing new dendrons is not a fun experience. Wonder what happens when I run out of room inside this skull. Does it explode on me? I can see it now. One langue too many and kaboom, the lady’s head’s a tomb. That what they mean when they say go out with a bang not a whimper? Tsah! I could work up a good whimper right about now. Ah! there we are. One beronta riding the waves.”
She increased magnification, frowned at the image on the small screen. “Kids! Hm. Looks like whole families travel on those things. Interesting, as that is, it’s got nothing to do with my problem. How do I talk to them? Should I wait till they make their next landfall? Probably best I do. This is not the most maneuverable of platforms. Right. We get a measure of average speed, see which island is the likely target.
Then we drop down and say hello. I really
don’t like that place and I’d rather not spend more time there than I have to.”
11
Shadith bowed. “Drummer Orros. And you may call me Shadow.”
“Yes, I do know Chiouti. Is it the island you wish to find, Shadow, or the woman who was on it.”
Shadith blinked, startled by having her question answered before she voiced it. “Thank you. It is the woman. I’ve come to find her. I need to talk to her.”
“Do you mean her harm? She is of the Bond.”
“No harm. I’ve a question to ask and an offer to make.”
“She can’t leave. Do you understand that? If you take her now, she’ll die and so will you.”
“You’re sure?”
“You come too late, Star rider.”
“Perhaps so, perhaps not. I don’t understand this Bond of yours, but there are things you don’t understand about me. In any case. I do need to talk to her.”
“She drums on a beronta these days. They make landfall next at an island called Keredel. It is on the far side of the world, six months sail from here.”
“How can I recognize Keredel?”
The Drummer snapped his fingers and a young boy ran to him with a stick, some stones, leaves, and bits of grass. He dropped to his knees on the damp sand, smoothed out a patch and, using the stick, began to carve. He labored over it for nearly half an hour, cutting bits of grass and leaves and fitting them into the sand, using the stones as rock outcroppings and to form a curving tail of small, rocky islets. When he was finished, he dusted off his knees, rubbed his palms against his menu. “That is Keredel.”
“You leave me in your debt, Drummer Orros.” She examined the small exquisite miniature, amazing in its detail, and knew she’d have no trouble locating that particular island.
“No. The woman is unhappy here and more so every day. It…” He paused, hunting for words. “It disturbs the Bond. The debt will be ours if you can find a way to make her content or to help her leave alive.”
Shadith bowed again, then went back to the lander. She had a lot to think about, but more to do before she could find the time she needed for that thinking.
14. Bargains
Lylunda took the small practice drum, left the bustling trade fair in the village belau, and went to sit on the bench, her bare feet in the foam from the retreating tide. She’d gathered cherar on the first island that the Remeydang stopped at after leaving Chiouti, but she could not make herself drink the infusion. Her throat closed up, her insides cramped, her hands shook so badly she dropped the glass. In the end she poured it out and fought the pull of the tung akar by drumming herself into exhaustion-but when morning came, she ate slices of the tuber with the rest of the Pandai. That night she curled in a knot and grieved for everything she’d lost. The Pandai understood her struggle and left her alone with it.
They knew, everyone knew everything, around the world and back all Pandai knew what one. Pandai knew as if they ate the information with the crisp yellow rounds of tung akar. No privacy of thought and feeling on Bol Mutiar. Each time she saw evidence of this, her body screamed with rage and terror, though she swallowed the words she wanted to shout at them. Rape of the soul. Taking what she didn’t want to give. Taking the last thing that was hers alone.
When she was out on the ocean, the pressure was gone, as if the brisk winds that sent the beronta scudding along blew the addiction from her head; she was happy there and it was enough respite to help her keep going. But there was always the next island, the next meal, all around her the smell of the tung and the awareness of its presence that went beyond the senses.
She touched the drum head, listened to it speak, She’d not eaten the tung yet, so she could still feel the song in her bones; it helped her push away the clamor to eat and be One in Bond with the others. Bond, the tapping of her fingers sang to her, bond, bond bondaaaage. Though the Pandai were freer within their limits than anyone she’d known, happier… real joy in them… in the games and the making of things… laughter and no fear… yet, what they gave up for this…
She felt something tweak at her. A coldness, almost anger, in the aura of the tung. She got to her feet, stood holding the drum in front of her like a shield as she watched a dark figure coming toward her. A woman. In a shipsuit. A trader? The Berotongs had never spoken of femme traders.
As the woman came closer, Lylunda watched the vigorous alertness in her body, the fierce energy of her walk; her eyes blurred with weak tears. She’d walked like that once. She’d danced that way.
The woman stopped in front of her; she was tall and slender with a tangle of gold-tipped brown curls and eyes like bitter chocolate. “Lylunda Elang?”
Lylunda sighed. Whatever the woman wanted, she had no will left to fight her. “Yes.” She felt the coldness grow, felt the peril in it. She didn’t care, she was just too tired to be afraid anymore.
The woman shivered. “I’m not here to hurt you in any way. Do you believe that?”
“Does it matter?”
“You tell me.”
“All right. I believe you.” She felt the coldness draw back; perhaps it did matter. She had no reason to wish harm on this woman.
“Thanks. I’m tired of this sand. Any place where we can sit and talk?”
“If you want to talk, talk here.”
The woman raised her brows, startled at the violence in Lylunda’s voice, but she wasn’t about to apologize. If she went away from the water, the tung’s call would grow too strong for her and she wouldn’t be able to think.
“All right. My name is Shadith. I work for Excavations Ltd., and the Kliu hired us to find you and either get the location of the Taalav array or hand you over to them so they could extract it. I don’t intend to do that, by the way. Hand you over, I mean.”
“Oh.” Lylunda sighed. “You came too late. If you take me away from here, I won’t live long enough to reach the Limit.”
“So I was told. Also that I’d be dead right beside you. Why?”
–
“To stay alive on this world for any length of time, you have to eat the tung akar. Once you’ve eaten enough of it, you can’t live without it. It’s more complicated than that in ways I wouldn’t understand unless I gave up and became part of the Tung Bond.”
“I’ve an ottodoc on board my ship. That wouldn’t flush it out of your system?”
“The Jilitera warned me about that. It won’t work. I think the tung has become part of my cell structure and the ottodoc can’t get all of it without killing me. It’s aware, the tung I mean. I can feel it.”
“Yes. So can I. Your father chose well. You’re certainly safe here. If the Kliu come after you, the Lung kills them.”
“You know about my father?”
“When I was on Hutsarte looking for you, I tangled with someone called Grinder Jiraba. He figured out what must have happened.”
“I see. I see something else, too. No ethical problems telling the Kliu where to find me. I’m safe, you’re away clean, not even any bad dreams.”
“Maybe no ethical problems, but an interesting practical one. We don’t get paid if we just give them your location. They want actual possession or a firm location for the array.”
Lylunda turned away, eased herself onto the sand, and sat staring out at the sea, her hands flattened against the sides of the drum so their shaking wouldn’t betray the surge of hope that was like fire racing through her body. She heard Shadith drop beside her, but she didn’t turn to face the woman, this too-clever hunter who’d sniffed out her hiding place.
When she had control of her voice, she said, “I’m not going to tell you.”
“Unless…”
“You are quick. Ba da, considering that you found me, I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ll sell Prangarris and the Taalav for a way off this world. That’s the only coin that will buy me; there’s nothing else you’ve got that I want.”
“I know a healer; I think she can keep you alive. I’d best go have a talk with her. T
ravel times being what they are, could be around several months before I’m back, so hold tight, hm? And hold onto this.” A beeper landed in her lap. A warm hand closed on her shoulder in a quick squeeze, then she heard the sounds of running feet thudding on the sand.
Lylunda kept staring at the sea, trying to calm the turmoil inside her and at the same time wondering how she was going to survive the next few months.
15. Worm Trails
1
The pulse from the beacon cut off as the Spy emerged from the ’split.
When Worm reached the Limit’and surfaced, he listened to the Shriek of the transfer station, swore when he heard the University ID. “Why here? I don’t understand. Harmon wouldn’t come near this place.”
Instead of continuing on to the tie-down, he slipped sideways and took the Kanti into a polar orbit about one of the outer planets.
His respite was gone, run down the drain. He sat for some time scowling at the corn screen. “I should have called Fa. It was the right thing to do. I wasted a month’s travel time because I lost my nerve.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she’s figured out something else. Maybe…” He sighed and punched in his father’s call sign, then waited for the connect.
When the screen lit, it was a girl’s face he saw instead of his father’s. Trish. “Where’s Fa, Coz?”
“Having a flush-out. Kliu called, said about Mort hanging on a thread. He took it bad. You got good news? Don’t know how he’d take more bad.”
“No good, no bad, just got more traveling to do. Need Fa’s sources.”
“You know he don’t let no one tap the source node. You gonna have to wait till he can talk, least twelve hours. That too long?”
“Maybe so, maybe no, but I damnsure can’t move without I’ve got some place to go to.”
“Ta, then. Talk to you when.”