The Space Between

by Scott J Robinson

  "They are. I'll walk you to the door though, of course."

  "Of course, gentleman that you are."

  O'Donnell laughed. Kim liked him. He'd given out more information than expected and chatted for much of the trip.

  The second plane was a Lear jet. The escort was made up of Air Force personnel. They mostly wore uniforms, though they did have the same serious expressions as the CIA. Keeble grabbed the first available window seat, ignoring the new men. Meledrin took the first seat on the aisle. Kim just dumped her pack and took the first one she came to. She had no idea where they were going, and hardly cared. The men on the plane, obviously just an escort of convenience like the last lot, watched them as if they were criminals. Kim wondered if perhaps they were, for more reasons than matters of security. Or perhaps people who worked for the United States government were trained to look that way. As she buckled up her belt, she thought that IRS agents probably went around with the same look.

  They were airborne in ten minutes and heading west.

  "I don't suppose there's a shower on this plane?" Kim asked as soon as the seat belt light went out.

  The nearest man looked up from his book and pointed towards the rear of the plane. Kim smiled.

  16: Messages

  Tuki sat with the skyglass on his lap, staring beyond the polished surface as if concentration alone could change the message he read within. He'd been looking for a long time. There had been one meteor before, now there were five. They hadn't moved for a while. Seeing the skyglass didn't seem to show anything of the far side of the world, there may have been more there too.

  One was right above his location.

  That location was on the edge of a clearing halfway down a steep-backed hill. Tuki had topped the rise midmorning and started back down. It wasn't until he entered the clearing, with the uninterrupted view it offered, that he'd seen the human city. If not for that, he would have been right down in the base of the valley and beside the first of the buildings before he realized. As it was, he was closer than he liked.

  The city was huge. He had been amazed by the earlier settlement, but the place before him was all but unbelievable. He counted eight hundred and eighty six buildings. One towered above the others, and Tuki wondered if the spire was to assist with the study of the stars.

  Humans were everywhere. In a large square on the edge of the city, they dipped beneath cultured awnings and tents like butterflies into flowers. They danced their dance, unaware of the message the Mother Blower was trying to pass on.

  The yellow dots in the skyglass hadn't moved.

  He wished he could go somewhere else. He wanted to climb back into the mountains and return to the desert. He could follow one of the other meteors shown by the 'glass but he may just go all that way to find himself in the same situation. And Poti had directed him here. He was supposed to go down into the city and talk to the humans of this city first.

  But the last humans Tuki had seen tried to hurt him.

  With a sigh, Tuki rose and started down the hill. He did not know what the Mother Blower was going to say, either, but maybe he had more chance of finding out than the humans. He had always been told, and had always believed, that Poti was infallible, but surely She had chosen the wrong person for this mission.

  "Keala should be here," Tuki said to the skyglass. "Or any of the women."

  If he didn't understand anything, how was he to explain it to others? And why would they listen to him, a go'gan? Even the men would laugh, surely. He couldn't help but laugh himself, a go'gan passing on the message of the Mother Blower. He fell silent when he tried to imagine how the women would react to his preaching.

  The Goddess had chosen him, though, perhaps as a chance to make up for some past indiscretion, or to test if he truly was worthy of marrying someone as special as Keala.

  So he would prove himself the best man in Danyon Ford. He would prove to the women who had laughed at him that the Goddess had spoken and he had listened. He slipped the skyglass into the pouch at his belt and marched down the hill. Examining the new meteor tattoo on the back of his hand, he wondered if he should have drawn it on his face.

  The first human he saw was sitting on the back of a shaggy, four-legged beast. His feet were swinging just above the ground. Possessions were slung in sacks across the beast's back. Tuki did not even have the chance to offer a greeting. The man got his feet onto solid ground and fled back the way he had come, leaving the beast standing on the road looking bemused and twitching its long ears.

  Tuki knew how both beast and man felt, but he forced his steps onwards. The beast watched him go.

  Half a kilometer later, Tuki rounded a bend and looked down a long stretch of road toward the city. He could see lots of people there, milling about. He slowed his pace as the trees thinned and offered him an ever-wider view. There were dozens of wooden-railed yards filled with beasts larger even than the one he had left standing on the road. They surged around, much like the people, as if hearing that there was much to fear but not knowing exactly what the danger was, or what to do about it.

  As Tuki drew nearer, the people — if not the animals — seemed to come to a decision. Some went one way, some went the other, but it all seemed to be with a purpose. One man stayed exactly where he was, a monolith in the shifting sands about him. He was still standing and watching when Tuki came to a stop.

  "You are not wanted here," the man said, his hand resting on the hilt of a long, curved knife. His accent was strange to Tuki's ears, rugged and clipped, but understandable.

  Tuki bowed deeply. He did not know the man's title, could not begin to guess, but the footprints of years traversed his features and the steel in his voice was tempered by authority. "Go'shin," Tuki said after an agonizing moment, praying he would not offend. "Why am I not wanted?"

  "Why?" He gave a bark of laughter. "Why are trolls ever not wanted? Leave now, or suffer the consequences." His voice was sure and steady, but he checked back over his shoulder. The crowd was surging and muttering. Those at the front were struggling to hold their ground against the press behind.

  "But, go'shin, I have been sent by the Mother Blower to speak with your mo'min." Was he supposed to speak with the mo'min? Tuki had been told no such thing.

  "Well, troll, the mo'min doesn't want to talk with you." Some of the tension leaked from the man's face when he saw others, dressed similarly to himself, pushing their way through the crowd, cursing and shouting and using force when people in the mob did not move quickly enough for their liking.

  Tuki moved nervously from foot to foot. "Go'shin, perhaps if you were to ask."

  "I'm Kuwisa, Keyman of the Payota City Guard, and I have all the authority needed to send the likes of you on your way." He drew his long knife and stepped forward.

  There were now a dozen men standing between the Keyman and the main crowd. They were all dressed in brown breeches and striped, tasseled shirts. Long knives were gripped in their hands. They all stepped forward as well.

  "Go, troll. You can't win here, not even you."

  Someone from the mob shouted: "If you don't think he can win, Keyman, what are you waiting for?"

  This comment was greeted with peels of laughter. Keyman Kuwisa didn't look around, but Tuki saw the look of anger cross his face. Kuwisa stepped forward again. "Last warning, troll. Go, and don't bother us again."

  "I am not a troll."

  But the Keyman was not listening. He raced forward, knife raised. The other knife wielding men came behind. Tuki turned and ran.

  Panicking, he saw that he wasn't moving toward the freedom of the hills. His hasty retreat had taken him among the animal pens, between the high timber fences. The beasts bawled at him and stampeded. They kicked up dust and fear.

  Tuki dodged and turned. Left and right. Right and left. Past this turning, through that intersection. Sweat trickled down his face, wasting valuable water. The skyglass thumped against his leg. He didn't know where he went. He didn't look up. He didn't look
behind for fear that his pursuers would be right there. His heart raced, stampeding with the beasts.

  Tuki didn't know how long he ran. It felt like he'd been all night in the desert.

  Suddenly he was out in the open again. The dust under his sandals turned to neat, square cobbles. The wooden fences on left and right changed to people.

  Tuki stopped.

  The people were staring at him.

  Tuki's heart raced faster but everything else seemed to slow down. The people were motionless, like startled birds caught balancing on the edge of flight. Then a shout went up. The mob rushed forward.

  Tuki turned to run, but they were behind him as well. He could do nothing. When the first man buckled his knees with a solid kick, he tumbled to the ground. With the cool stone against his side, he curled into a ball around the skyglass and screamed.

  Tears streamed down his face. The blows continued to fall, boots and fists, savage shouts hurled like stones. Pain blossomed. Tuki covered his face with his arms and prayed for assistance. He curled himself even tighter.

  And screamed and screamed.

  After a lifetime of pain, Tuki was shocked when it suddenly stopped. He stayed where he was, eyes closed, the cool stones anchoring him to consciousness. He waited for the next blow, the final one that would push him over the edge, and wondered why had the Mother Blower abandoned him? Why had she even sent him here in the first place?

  Eventually, a voice reached through the haze.

  "Step away. Go on. Away with you."

  Mutters and curses greeted the commands, but sunlight suddenly struck Tuki. The Mother Blower's gaze was as painful as any blow. He had failed her in some way, he was sure.

  "Move back you fools."

  Tuki felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched again, curled tighter. But the hand didn't hurt. It rested against his burning skin.

  "Keyman, get control of this mob, for Anas's sake."

  "Why, Sha Yukima? The troll is getting nothing less than he deserves."

  "I'm not sure he is a troll, Keyman. And what he deserves, either way, is to be treated as a man."

  "Not a troll? Who do you think you're kidding, Sha? Look at him."

  "I am looking. And what I see is a large man who was passively taking a beating from unarmed commoners. How many trolls have you met that would do that?"

  "He's a troll. No other men are that big."

  "No men you have met, perhaps, Keyman. But I believe this lad is a moai."

  "Never heard of them."

  "The moai are men of legend. They are huge it is said, larger than a troll, and come from the desert."

  Tuki opened his eyes. Keyman Kuwisa was standing over him, the huge knife still drawn. The other man, far older, was crouching down, a worried expression creasing his gaunt features. He had a long plaited beard and a hat decorated with a long white feather.

  "So are they legends, Sha Yukima? Or are they real?" The Keyman's voice clearly held his disdain for all to hear.

  Tuki moved his hand to touch at the Moon Gate tattooed on his chest, as if that might keep him safe from the Keyman's anger or let him enter Heaven if all else failed.

  "How am I to know, Keyman?" Yukima said. "I am a priest, not a historian."

  "Priest or historian, both know the danger of trolls."

  "Yes, and I know the danger of this lad," Sha Yukima retorted.

  The two men stared at each other.

  The Keyman grunted. "Well, what are we going to do then?"

  "The lad has made no threats, he was doing nothing wrong. All he has done is come to Payota on market day along with hundreds more of Anas's sons."

  "I can not let him roam the streets."

  "Roam the streets? You think he is capable of roaming anywhere?"

  "If he was a troll —"

  "If he was a troll we would not be having this conversation. Correct?"

  The Keyman grunted once more and Tuki watched, slightly fearful, as Sha Yukima rose to his feet. But the man was not leaving him. He dusted off his long blue robes as he looked around.

  "Get some of your men to find a wagon. We will take him to the Municipy."

  "If we must."

  For several minutes, men rushed about, clearing a path through the crowd and bringing up what was apparently a wagon. Tuki, still curled in a ball, examined it closely as two shaggy, large-eared animals like the one he had seen on the road brought it to a stop by his side.

  "Are you able to stand, lad?"

  Tuki turned for a moment to look at Sha Yukima, then back at the wagon. The movement made his head pound. His neck ached terribly.

  "Perhaps he's stupid," Keyman Kuwisa suggested.

  Sha Yukima crouched back by his side. "We just want to get you into the wagon. Are you able to stand?"

  "In there?" Tuki asked.

  "Yes. We want to take you to some place safe. It would be easiest for you in the wagon. We can take you somewhere out of the sun, where it is cooler."

  "I don't mind the sun," Tuki said softly, looking up to the sky to confirm that the Mother Blower was still at work, that she had not really deserted him.

  "Of course you don't. You are from the desert, aren't you?" Yukima smiled some more. "Well, how about some food and water? You must be hungry."

  "A little. Yes." Tuki slowly uncurled and sat up. Each movement brought screams of pain from his limbs. He glanced over his shoulder. People still surrounded him, but were apparently not going to attack again.

  A few painful moments later, Tuki had climbed awkwardly to his feet. His left knee hardly supported his weight as he limped to the back of the wagon. His shoulder grated when he tried to climb up onto the wooden planks. He looked around from his new vantage and saw hundreds of people watching him.

  The uniformed men moved in to form a cordon around the wagon, and the animal handler spoke an order. The parade started to move slowly along the road into the city. The priest sat on the boards beside Tuki, legs dangling over the side.

  "What is your name, lad?"

  "Tuki." Tuki was dividing his glance between the rumbling progress of the wagon and the brightly painted, conical roofed buildings along the way. Most had doorways decorated with feathers and fetishes, weavings and painted balls.

  "I'm Sha Yukima. Sha is my title. I'm a priest, a man who talks with God."

  Tuki smiled at the ludicrous thought; a man who talks with God. But the smile slipped from his face, and he touched the skyglass through the cloth of his waist-sack.

  "I am a go'gan, Sha."

  "And what is that? What are your duties?"

  "A go'gan is a man for whom the Mother Blower has not yet chosen a wife." Tuki paused for a moment, thinking of Keala. She would be waiting for him to take the skyglass back to Danyon Ford. "My duties are to do what I am told."

  "What do your tattoos mean? Do they tell a story?"

  Tuki shook his head. "They each mean something on their own. This is the Moon Gate. It is the gate to the stars, to where the Mother Blower watches over us." As he spoke, he watched the circular pieces of timber that the wagon moved on.

  "And the leaves?" Yukima asked.

  "They are leaves from the Tree of Life. Each branch on the Tree is a universe, each leaf is a world that grows with the Mother's warmth."

  The old man was nodding but said nothing. Tuki was going to continue explaining the meaning of his tattoos but asked about the circular timber instead.

  "What are these called, Sha?"

  "They are wheels." Sha Yukima smiled. "You've never seen wheels? I suppose there's not much use for wheels in the desert."

  "And the animals?"

  "The animals that pull the wagon are called donkeys."

  "Donkeys?" Tuki wiped at his chin and brought his hand away covered in blood. His jaw ached terribly.

  "I'm sorry. Here." The priest pulled a frilly white cloth from his sleeve and handed it to Tuki. "One donkey, many donkeys. How old are you, Tuki?"

  "I have seen nineteen New Year Fes
tivals."

  Sha Yukima nodded his head slowly. "Why are you here?"

  "I said, Sha. I am here to bring the words of the Mother Blower." He wiped at his chin, and then held the cloth against the corner of his mouth.

  "Yes, I know you said that, but you were not sent by your leader?"

  Tuki lowered his head, glancing at the meteor on his hand. Sha Yukima was a smart man. "No, Sha. The mo'min did not send me. Poti Herself did."

  "Poti is your Goddess? She told you to come and spread Her word?"

  Tuki shrugged, embarrassed. "Perhaps. She told me to come here, to your city, but I do not know why."

  As they went further into the city, noisy crowds gathered. People hung from windows, or looked down from high balconies. They lined the streets, muttering under their breath and staring hatred. All the people. It was more people than Tuki had seen before.

  "So many people, Sha."

  Sha Yukima laughed. "About three thousand people live in Payota, Tuki. But it is market day today, so people have come from all about."

  There were as many men as women in the crowd, and they were the more vocal by far.

  "Do the women allow men positions of power in your city, Sha?"

  The priest laughed. "Something like that, Tuki. Something like that."

  Tuki didn't know what to make of that. "I would like to talk to your mo'min," he said.

  "Don't worry, we are on our way to meet with the city's leaders."

  "Thank you."

  Even more people had gathered at a spot where the road divided. There was a long narrow stretch of parkland down the middle where people stood and shouted and pumped their fists in the air. They kept moving so Tuki couldn't count them properly. One of them, a man with hair on his face, stooped to a wooden pail by his feet as Tuki and his entourage passed by. When he straightened he had a tomato in each hand. Tuki watched, unable to do anything, as the stranger hurled the fruit his way. The first piece struck his shoulder and the second sailed past his head and landed in the crowd beyond. Then more fruit came, and more, until it seemed to fall out of the sky like the water had.

  Tuki ducked his head and tried to ignore everything. Much of the fruit was rotten, but it would not harm him as the fists and feet had earlier. Though it was such a waste. He wondered if he should collect the better missiles to take back to the desert.