“The seeker wishes to speak with you. Yet you should not believe that is a good thing. We of the Berserkers have a law. A clan can have only one seeker. More, and the warriors begin to lose respect in the eyes of the women and children.”
“Uh, you’re telling me that you plan to kill me?”
“Maybe, but maybe the seeker knows a way to burn the magic out of your mind so you may live as a warrior.”
Cyrus went cold inside. These bastards wanted to take away his psi-power, as limited as it was?
Yang’s eyes shone. “Yes . . . not so willing to live at any cost, are you? I see the fight rise up in you. You are a warrior born.”
Cyrus held himself still. Now wasn’t the time to strike. What could he do anyway to change his position? If he wanted freedom, he’d have to kill all the Berserkers or chase them off. Then he’d be back to living off the land, but without primitive know-how. Unless he stole Skar’s gun, he couldn’t kill them all, and Yang must know that. No, this was like his earliest days in Milan. He was on the bottom rung, facing dangers many times more powerful than he was. He needed to use cunning and daring at the right moment.
“Magic is a two-edged knife,” Cyrus said.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a curse as much as a gift.”
Yang chuckled in a nasty way. “If you feel that way, let us burn out the magic now.”
“Sure,” Cyrus said. “I’m sick of it anyway.”
Yang’s gaze bored into him. “No. You must realize that only a seeker could do such a thing. You have gambled again, just like in the dark with your knife cast. You are dangerous, star man. Maybe you are even more dangerous than the demonslayer.”
“How about you take the ropes off his arms,” Cyrus said. “Have you noticed he doesn’t talk much lately?”
“He waits,” Yang said. “I have also watched him closely. He playacts his hurts. No. He will remain bound until such a time as I trust him.”
“And if that never happens?”
“Then I will kill him with the spell wand. I will explode his chest as you slew Stone Fist.”
“They tried to kill us first,” Cyrus said. “Doesn’t a man have a right to defend himself?”
“You do not know it, but you act at times more like a seeker than a warrior. You use words like knives. I do not trust you, but I haven’t yet made up my mind about you. Still, I feel honor-bound to tell you this. Though you are my enemy, we shall speak man-to-man now.”
“Okay.”
“Jana is a special woman. I have seen how you watch her. So it is time you know the truth about her.”
Here it comes. This is why he’s talking to me. He’s going to warn me off.
“By special,” Cyrus said, “you mean you’re going to make her your mate?”
Yang chuckled. “No. I am not such a fool. I do not want a warrior for a mate. I want a regular woman who cooks and cleans, who obeys my commands. Jana is a hunter, a spear carrier. She speaks like a man and slings stones with uncanny skill, better than any man. None in Berserker Clan would take her for a mate. She is uncommon and special. No, Jana’s only hope for a mate is if a warrior from another clan catches and subdues her. That would not be easy for the warrior, and he would always have to beware of her, lest she knife him in his sleep.”
“She sure looks like a woman to me,” Cyrus said.
“As I said, I have noticed the way you watch her. You think because she has smooth legs and a pretty face that you can tame her. I do not trust you, but I do not fully distrust you, nor do I hate you. Thus, I have come to warn you about Jana. She is a warrior, and she would as soon devour you as let you subdue her and take her as a mate.”
“Yang, just when I think I know you, you go and surprise me. You are much more devious than you let on.”
“It is as I said. Though you have the heart of a warrior, you have the shrewdness of a seeker.”
“And you don’t?” Cyrus said.
Yang’s grin departed. “You do not know our ways, star man. So I will let this insult pass. Until the seeker decides what we should do with you, I will withhold my judgment.”
The hetman grunted as he stood, and his right knee popped. Without another word, he walked away.
Cyrus’s appetite had fled—they were thinking about burning out his psi-ability. He pocketed the jerky. These primitives with their harsh ways were going to mind cripple him. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know what to do on this wasteland of an alien planetoid.
17
Cyrus should have known the journey was almost over. Yang wouldn’t have told him all those things so he could make plans to escape. From the evidence of the past few days, Cyrus could see that the hetman ruled justly. He must have told Cyrus what he did in order to play fair with him.
They reached the Berserker encampment with its skin tents and campfires. Cyrus spied children and women and a very few old people. They hid the camp among thin trees with triangular leaves.
Yang ordered Cyrus into one tent, and he didn’t see what they did with Skar. Before Cyrus could decide what he should do, two warriors he’d never seen entered the tent, sat cross-legged, and watched him.
Cyrus tried to engage the two in conversation, but they refused to answer any questions. Finally, he lay down and slept, and he did so hard. Maybe he felt safer in a tent than sleeping under the stars. He slept until a rough hand shook him awake.
Cyrus looked up. Yang knelt beside him. A pan of cooked meat with green pepper roots sat nearby, together with a wooden cup of water.
“Eat, drink,” Yang said. “The seeker will judge you afterward.”
“And then you castrate my mind?” Cyrus asked bitterly.
“These are strange times,” Yang said. “Who knows how the seeker will judge?”
Cyrus sat up, and he began to eat and drink. Then it penetrated, what Yang had just said.
“So what’s going on, exactly?” Cyrus asked.
“Your words are odd,” Yang said.
“Why are these strange times?” Cyrus asked.
“You two have come down from space. Stone Fist and the others perished at your hand. A demon died in its sky vehicle. The seeker listened as I told her these things. Then I told her you had asked about Klane. She became very agitated and demanded to see you at once.”
“The seeker has heard of Klane?”
“I will be with you in the seeker’s tent,” Yang said. “Jana will join me. She has witnessed several marvels. The seeker is excited about you. She should have waited a week before you entered her tent. You haven’t even undergone purification for slaying Stone Fist and the others.” Yang shook his head. “Times are strange. Now eat up, hurry. The seeker wants to hear your tale.”
Cyrus did exactly that, and he became excited himself. Soon enough, he wiped his hands and told Yang he was done. They went outside the tent. No one else was outside. Cyrus wasn’t sure he liked that.
Yang escorted him to a larger tent where Jana waited by the flap entrance.
“Is there a ceremony to follow before we do this?” Cyrus asked.
“She is the seeker,” Yang said. “She is not the speaker to the gods.”
“Oh.”
Jana stepped back as Yang approached. The hetman pulled back the tent flap and indicated Cyrus should enter first.
He did. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected; maybe a hundred skulls or burning incense. There were furs, a sleeping mat, a small hanging stone, a flickering oil flame, and a stand with several glistening stones on it. A young woman with long, dark hair and a curious symbol painted on her forehead sat cross-legged on a mat. She had frank and pleasing features.
The seeker smiled in a friendly manner.
Cyrus glanced back at Yang.
“This is the Berserker Clan seeker,” Yang said.
Fo
r a moment, Cyrus wondered if Yang had tricked him. Was this all an elaborate charade?
No. I am the Berserker seeker, the woman told Cyrus through telepathy.
Cyrus’s eyes widened. You’re so young. I expected someone old.
The seeker nodded, and she indicated a mat near hers. “We will speak aloud,” she told Cyrus.
“Sure,” Cyrus said.
Jana and Yang sat behind Cyrus.
“You have eaten?” the seeker asked.
“I have,” Cyrus said.
“And you are well rested?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is time for you to tell me your tale,” the seeker said.
“And afterward you burn out my psi-power?” Cyrus asked.
The seeker frowned, and she fidgeted with an oily stone. “The clan laws are firm,” she said, finally. “There can be only one seeker and no other magic user in the clan. If you were young enough, you might have become my apprentice. But that will not work now. Let us consider that later. For now, I must hear your tale.”
“Okay,” Cyrus said. “I’m glad to tell it. First, do you know anything about Klane?”
The seeker’s right hand tightened around the oily stone and her features grew taut. “We must take one careful step at a time. It appears as if the days of prophecy are upon us, but one must not rush to judgment. The ancient ways tell us to consider wisely. That is what I plan to do. Cyrus Gant of Earth, I want to hear your tale. Do not leave out anything. Do not fear that I cannot understand you. I understand much more than you realize. I want you to begin by telling us how you came to Fenris.”
“How I came to the Fenris System, not just Jassac?” Cyrus asked.
“That is correct,” the seeker said.
Cyrus glanced back at Jana. She gave him a tremulous smile of encouragement. Warrior princess or not, Cyrus believed he could get used to looking at her every day of his life.
“Okay,” Cyrus said, facing the seeker. “This is how it began . . .” He told her about underground Milan with its forty levels, about the institute and Specials. He talked about the inhibitor put in his mind and how Jasper had spoken to a clairvoyant about New Eden—the Fenris System. Cyrus told the young seeker about discontinuity windows, how it took AI technology and Specials melded together. The seeker nodded from time to time as if she understood the concepts. When Cyrus twisted around, Yang looked sleepy and Jana was absorbed with his words, staring at him with shining eyes. He faced the seeker again.
“Please,” the seeker said, “continue with your tale. I find this fascinating.”
Cyrus did exactly that. He explained how a psi-master—one of the Kresh’s slaves—tricked Jasper during the space journey. He told the seeker about the mutiny aboard Discovery, and how he had saved the Teleship during the first battle. He talked about the ship’s boarding. He spoke about the flight to High Station 3, and how he’d made his escape during the docking ceremony. Lastly, he talked about the Reacher, the Anointed One, and Skar’s and his escape to the needle-ship and the battle three weeks later in Jassac orbit.
It was a long story, and Cyrus drained a stone cup of water at its ending. He discovered that Yang and Jana had departed. The seeker frowned and stared at the ground, with lines in her forehead.
Cyrus felt purged. He was lost on an alien world, but at last he’d found someone similar to himself, or more so than the Reacher and Vomag soldiers. The seeker felt like a fellow Special, someone who would have gone to classes with him in the institute on Crete.
The seeker sighed loudly.
Cyrus looked up to find the young woman studying him.
“I do not want to burn out your psi-power,” the seeker said. “That would be foolish. We’ll have to think of a way around that.”
“I already have one.”
“Yes?”
“Release Skar and give us back our weaponry. We’re visitors, not Berserker Clan members.”
“There is a certain elegance to that,” the seeker said. “Unfortunately, Yang and the other warriors might not agree. There is the matter of you slaying three of our warriors.”
“They attacked us first.”
The seeker shook her head. “That has no bearing on blood vengeance. The relatives of the slain warriors will want to kill you. In fact, they await our verdict.”
“So . . . if I become a member of the clan . . . ?” Cyrus asked.
“You would have to pay blood guilt for the three slain warriors,” the seeker said. “Jana would have to return your metal knife, but then you would have to give it up in payment. The same thing would be true for your heat gun. I’m not sure how you would appease the third family.”
“And if I’m part of the clan and can pay blood guilt with valuable items, I would also have to burn out my psi-power, right?”
“Or I have to allow mine to be expunged,” the seeker said.
“What?”
“You would have to become the clan’s seeker in my stead.”
Cyrus stared at her. The woman was serious. It amazed him. He cleared his throat, saying, “I don’t plan on living on Jassac for the rest of my life.”
“You would desert your post as seeker?”
“Look—” Cyrus chopped his hand through the air. “Do you have a first name? I don’t want to call you ‘seeker’ all the time.”
“Seekers forgo a name when they accept the position.”
“Okay. Look, seeker, do you know anything about Klane?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are we talking about burning out psi-powers? Where is he?”
“He has gone to the Valley of the Demons.”
“Come again?” Cyrus said.
“He is in the valley.”
“The valley that has the terraforming convertor on the nearby mountain?” asked Cyrus.
“Yes.”
“The Kresh live down there in the valley, right?”
“Klane went to free his seeker in the Kresh city.”
“How about you start from the beginning,” Cyrus said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I do not know the entire tale, but I know the Kresh captured the Tash-Toi seeker in the uplands. Klane killed a demon earlier—one of the Kresh. In retaliation—or for whatever reason they have—the Kresh came back from their valley, likely to capture Klane. The seeker sacrificed himself in Klane’s place.”
“Wait, wait,” Cyrus said, as he massaged his forehead. “So . . . you seekers keep linked together?”
The Berserker seeker pursed her lips thoughtfully. “These are abnormal times. I do not pretend to understand everything that you told me. But I do understand the majority of it.”
“Yeah, that’s been troubling me. How do you know so much about technological things? The others don’t,” he said.
The seeker stiffened. “Do not attempt to discern all our secrets, Earth man.”
“I’m not asking as an Earth man,” Cyrus said. “I’m asking as the Tracker. Or don’t you know about that part of the prophecy?”
“I know it.”
“Good. That saves time. The Reacher on High Station 3 named me as the Tracker. He said I’m supposed to find Klane.”
“No. You’re supposed to free Klane. The prophecy tells of his capture and his time under Kresh evil. He will learn a secret, something incredibly important to humanity’s freedom. Afterward, he will need your help escaping from the demons, the Kresh, I mean.”
Cyrus laughed. “I’m supposed to free him from the aliens?”
“You’re supposed to free him from captivity,” the seeker said. “That is a subtle difference. Your question implies that you’re supposed to free him from all the Kresh. But in reality, you’re just supposed to free him from their clutches down in the city.”
“That’s a pretty elaborate prophecy,” Cyrus said.
“I have interpreted some of the signs differently than others have,” the seeker admitted. “It is also true that I hold to the First Form interpretation. Second Form people would undoubtedly tell you something else. There are, of course, subtle variations between each form—”
“Forget about that,” Cyrus said. “I’m not interested in theological niceties concerning this prophecy. Klane is in the valley, right?”
“The last I know, yes. It has become too dangerous now to far-cast for him. The Bo Taw would perceive me, and that could possibly ruin everything.”
“Do the Kresh know about the prophecy?”
“It is possible. Luckily for us the aliens are incredibly arrogant. It has been one of our greatest shields. They may know of it and discount it as human superstition.”
“Listen, seeker, I have to know as much as possible about everything. I don’t see how Skar and I could sneak down into the valley city. Some of the Berserker warriors would have to help us.”
“None here except for me would dare to attempt such a dangerous feat. The evil legends of the valley—”
“The others would be too frightened to go?” Cyrus asked.
“People like Yang and Jana are very brave, but they are also fiercely superstitious.”
“So we’re back to square one.”
The seeker drummed her fingers on the hard-packed dirt. She had bitten her nails to the quick. “This is a terrible time. The prophecy is upon us, and we cannot change clan custom. One of us must lose our psi-powers. Equally troubling, I cannot break my solemn word without damning myself.”
“Now what? Is there something else you’re not telling me?”
The seeker slammed a fist on the ground. “I must tell you. As you’ve said, you are the Tracker. You will have to risk everything to save the Anointed One. From what you’ve told me, there is more at risk here than the Berserkers, the Tash-Toi, and the other peoples of the uplands. All of humanity’s enslavement and genetic manipulation possibly rests on my choices—not just the Fenris humans, but the home-world humans of Earth’s solar system as well. I agree with your idea that the Kresh will copy DW technology and send a fleet to enslave the humans of the solar system. The Kresh are an aggressive species. Their millennia-long war against the Chirr proves it. By your words, you have implied that Earth has only a handful of psi-able people.”
Alien Shores (A Fenris Novel, Book 2) Page 15