by Jaine Fenn
Kerin left Urien examining the console and got Damaru ready to go. Sais called shortly after, and Urien handed control back to her.
‘The north side,’ he repeated, after running through her instructions.
‘Aye, facing towards the mountains. We will see you there soon.’ She stood up and said to Urien, ‘I hope that while we are gone you will be bored enough to get some rest.’
‘I am sure I will find something to occupy myself,’ he said drily. ‘Your task is more important than this minor unrest. If I had prayers to send with you, I would.’
She and Damaru left via the hidden passage. When they emerged from the storeroom, she led him on a little-used route that took them upwards. They met no one until they were nearly at their goal, when a high-ranking priest of Medelwyr emerged from his rooms and spotted them. ‘What in the name of the Five are you doing up here, woman?’ he thundered.
Kerin did not have to fake her alarm, but she had her response ready: ‘Please, Gwas, the Consort . . .’
The priest’s gaze fell on Damaru, who had stopped a little behind Kerin.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him fidgeting. Before the priest could say more, she continued, ‘He came to our kitchen in search of a snack – he does that often, Gwas – and then he made clear his intent to visit the highest balcony of the Tyr. My hearth-mistress asked me to accompany him, for though he is unlikely to come to harm she—’
‘Aye, of course, of course, I see,’ the priest said, more kindly. ‘Your name and hearth?’
Kerin resisted the urge to smile as Gwellys am Penfrid came back into service.
They reached the top of the final staircase and Kerin felt the cool night breeze on her face. She hurried Damaru down a short corridor to the open balcony. Dinas Emrys, City of Light, fanned out far below, spreading from the base of the Tyr, though at this hour she could see little other than the grid-work of light-globes that lined the streets. To her right, the sky was already growing pale; they needed to be gone before dawn. She looked up, and thought she could make out a starless patch overhead. Holding onto the stone balustrade with one hand, she leaned out and waved.
Damaru gasped, and Kerin immediately turned to him, but he was staring out beyond the balcony, at the two figures floating in the air there. They appeared wreathed in shadow, darker than the night itself.
She shivered involuntarily as one of them spoke: ‘We thought we’d come and find you, to make sure we got the right balcony before bringing the ship down.’ She recognised the voice as that of the boy, Taro.
‘Maman, they fly!’
She turned to her son and said, ‘Aye, Damaru, they do.’ Another miracle about which Sais had been quite matter-of-fact.
As the two figures came closer, the boy asked, ‘All right if we land? That way we can be ready to go soon as the ship’s in position.’
‘Aye, of course,’ Kerin said, pulling at Damaru’s arm to get him to move back with her.
The pair of them landed together, light as thistledown, and beyond them she could now see the dark bulk of Sais’ ship, which was descending rapidly. Though it was large enough to blot out the view, the vessel was almost silent; even listening carefully, Kerin could hear only the faintest hum.
In the light of the passage she got a better look at Sais’ friends. They were bare-headed, and both wore dark, tight-fitting suits with no seams or joins; their strange clothes covered them from neck to toe; over these they had cloaks which appeared to absorb any light that fell on them. As she had thought when she saw him on the screen, Taro was not much older than Damaru – but he was taller than anyone she had ever seen. His hair was artfully messed, and he had somewhat the air of a dandy, which made Kerin smile, and put her more at her ease.
The same could not be said for his companion. She hung back slightly, as though not wanting to attract attention to herself, though such beauty was hard to miss – yet when Kerin looked again, she thought the Sidhe’s aura of majesty appeared somehow diminished.
She felt a tense smile crease her face. She said to the woman, ‘My son robs you of your powers, does he not?’
‘He does,’ she replied tersely.
‘Right, who’s going first then?’ The boy’s jollity was forced, and it failed to hide his unease at the exchange.
‘I will,’ Kerin said, ‘provided Damaru can see me at all times.’ As she spoke, a square of light suddenly appeared in the dark belly of the ship where a door had opened.
‘Don’t worry,’ said the boy, ‘he’ll be able to keep his eye on you! You happy to come and stand between us? That’s it. Now, turn around and hold your arms across your body like this, so we can lift you.’
‘Must I turn my back on Damaru?’
‘It don’t make much difference which way you face. We just thought you might want to see where you’re going.’
Her son was watching her, looking puzzled. She said to him softly, ‘I must fly across to Sais’ ship now, Damaru.’
‘I want to fly too!’ he said petulantly.
‘You will, my lovely boy, just as soon as everything is ready for you.’ She did not want to imply distrust by saying she needed to make sure it was safe first. He appeared satisfied with that, and Kerin followed Taro’s instructions. She forced herself not to flinch when the Sidhe woman touched her, but she did gasp when they lifted off and floated free of the balcony, thinking she was about to slip; but they had her firmly, if not comfortably, in their grasp. As they left the balcony the boy had to duck to avoid hitting his head.
They floated free of the Tyr, the night-breezes whipping at Kerin’s skirts. She was glad it was still too dark to see much, else she might have been tempted to look down.
The distance was no further than the dozen or so steps across her chamber, but Kerin was still relieved when they landed on the far side. ‘Welcome aboard,’ said Taro. He added, ‘This ain’t the usual entrance, but we had the doors open anyway, to soak up a bit of the local atmosphere.’ His tone implied there was something amusing in this comment, but Kerin could not see what.
Before she could ask about Sais, the pair had left and were already halfway across the gap. Damaru was standing by the balustrade, staring over at her.
‘Let them carry you across, Damaru,’ called Kerin softly.
They landed on either side of him, and Damaru suffered Taro to take his arm, but when the Sidhe tried to touch him he shrieked, the sound painfully loud in the night air, and pulled his arm away.
‘Damaru, please,’ implored Kerin.
‘No! She is bad pattern,’ he cried, and took a step back.
Kerin hoped he would not bolt. ‘Damaru, listen, my lovely boy: she is not like the Cariad – she is Sidhe, but she is on our side. She is Sais’ friend.’
Damaru said nothing, and Kerin could see his hurt look.
‘You know, Damaru,’ she said sternly, ‘that I will not come back there, so you have no choice but to come to me. And you have already said how much you look forward to seeing the technology above again. But to do that you must let the S— you must let Nual touch you. Do you understand?’
Damaru made a show of turning his head away from the woman, though he stood his ground.
‘Try again,’ said Kerin to the others.
Kerin saw Damaru tense his entire right side when the Sidhe took his arm, but he neither moved nor spoke.
His face was the picture of distaste as he was flown across the gap. He pulled away as soon as they let him go.
‘Right,’ said Taro, with a sigh of relief, ‘let’s get you two up to the bridge.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
‘It’s great to see you, Kerin.’ Jarek opened his arms and gave her a hug; she looked exhausted. ‘You too, Damaru.’ He knew better than to try touching the skyfool, who was peering past him at the ship’s controls. Nual and Taro had gone back to the cargo-hold to finish applying the patches over the hull breaches, which was just as well, because there wasn’t room for five people on the Heart of Gl
ass’s bridge.
‘I am happy to see you too,’ said Kerin. ‘Damaru, will you not greet Sais?’
‘Hello Sais,’ said the boy.
Jarek sat down again. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be flying the ship while we talk. You can stand or sit, whichever you prefer.’ Once they were underway, he said, ‘So here’s what we need to do: first, we have to physically link the fusion plant on the Setting Sun to the point-defence system on the transfer-station. Second – and this is where Damaru comes in – we need to rig up some sort of power conversion unit, so the reactor’s output can help power the lasers.’
‘The fusion plant and the reactor – they are both names for the same technology?’ asked Kerin.
‘Yeah, sorry – there’re a fair few technical terms. Just ask if I say something that doesn’t make sense. I suggest you and I get to work on the cabling – that’s pretty straightforward, at least initially – while Taro and Damaru check out the situation in the transfer-station. We’re going to need Damaru’s special talents to work out what needs doing and how to do it safely.’
‘Would it not be better if I accompanied Damaru?’ said Kerin, ‘or you, if this task requires knowledge I do not have. He knows you.’
‘I realise that, but Taro’s been reading up on the tech in there, so he’s got the knowledge to help Damaru. There’s another reason too: because of the problems with the power supply, there’s no gravity in the transfer-station.’
‘And gravity is what sticks people to the world?’
Jarek grinned. ‘Yeah, basically.’
‘And why—? Oh, I see, because Taro can fly. But Damaru cannot—’
‘I’ve got a suit he can borrow that will keep his feet stuck to the floor. Taro will be his back-up, in case he has any issues with the lack of grav, and he can be Damaru’s gopher – sorry, fetch and carry anything Damaru needs to do the job.’
‘I see. And what will your other companion be doing during this time?’ asked Kerin, her tone deceptively mild.
‘Nual will be on the Setting Sun’s bridge, shutting down the reactor and monitoring the ship’s systems to make sure we don’t accidentally do anything we shouldn’t.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Kerin stiffly, ‘being Sidhe she can operate the ship. Though without Damaru’s talent . . .’
‘Nual knows the Setting Sun.’ Jarek didn’t mean to snap, but he didn’t want to discuss how Nual had come by that knowledge; it would lower Kerin’s opinion of Nual even further. ‘Right, if you’re happy with the plan, let’s sort out that suit for Damaru.’
He led the way down to the rec-room. Nual had very sensibly retired to her cabin, leaving her v-suit draped over the couch next to Taro.
‘Hey, Damaru, how you doin’?’ said Taro, springing to his feet. Damaru ignored him.
Kerin went over and made a show of examining the suit. Damaru trailed after her, and his interest picked up once he saw this was no ordinary item of clothing but a piece of wearable tech. Taro and Jarek looked at each other over their bent heads and smiled. Jarek decided it was safe to leave them to it.
Back on the bridge Jarek checked their course; he’d had to ascend at a shallow angle and then loop back in again in order to use the safe approach corridor. Looking outside, he saw that the top section of the beanstalk was already in sunlight again, and as the ship got closer he noticed how the counterweight and transfer-station both shone; they were completely coated with solarfilm, providing easy, eternal energy. He had to admit that the Sidhe thought bigger and longer-term than humans; they’d always been as interested in the control of space as in the control of people. Augmenting their maintenance-free solar system with fusion would mean occasional refuelling and checks on the reactor, but that fitted in with Jarek’s plans for regular visits to Serenein from now on.
He kept half an ear on the proceedings below. From the sound of it, they were making some progress – at least he hadn’t heard any tantrums yet.
He brought the Heart of Glass round so the Setting Sun came into view. The Sidhe ship looked comparatively tawdry against the bright solarfilm-covered transfer-station. He thought about calling Kerin and Damaru up to see the unusual sight, but it sounded like Taro was teaching Damaru how to use the v-suit, which was rather more important.
He lined up with the Setting Sun, and docked, then put the ship into standby and went back down. Nual emerged from her cabin as Jarek stepped off the ladder. Jarek was pleased to see they’d got Damaru suited up, though from Taro’s expression he guessed it had been an uphill struggle.
Taro and Nual boarded the Setting Sun first. As Jarek followed with Kerin and Damaru he could see the tension in Kerin’s face; the last time she’d been here she’d had her will stolen by one Sidhe and killed another; Kerin herself had been shocked by the deep and single-minded hatred she had displayed.
Once on board, Taro fell into step beside Damaru. It sounded to Jarek like they were getting on all right, even if much of Damaru’s conversation sprang from a naked curiosity which would have been downright rude coming from anyone else.
While Nual made her way to the bridge he led his party to the Setting Sun’s cargo-bay. The room was dominated by a double row of comaboxes. Beyond them the loading doors were open to the dark transfer-station; though the station had shut down to save power, being docked to the Setting Sun meant it had kept its atmosphere, even if the temperature was on the low side.
‘So, those got Consorts in then?’
Jarek started at Taro’s question, and saw Kerin’s brow furrow. ‘Yeah,’ he said slowly, ‘that’s them.’ He had a good idea what Kerin was thinking: how the abilities of the sleeping boys could come in really handy in his fight against the Sidhe; and how, if he wanted to use them like that, there wasn’t a lot she could do to stop him. ‘Let’s go through to the transfer-station,’ he added hurriedly.
Or rather, to the edge of it. Once they reached the threshold of the massive shadowy room he asked Taro, ‘All set?’
‘Yeah,’ Taro said, brandishing the toolkit he’d taken from the Heart of Glass.
‘Be careful,’ he told him. The capacitors might be low on charge, but they could still be dangerous.
‘We’ll be fine,’ Taro said confidently.
Kerin went over and spoke with Damaru briefly; it looked to Jarek like the boy was eager to get to work.
The two boys took their first steps into the transfer-station, their suit-lights flashing in the darkness. Jarek said softly, ‘Don’t worry Kerin: he’s only a comcall away.’
‘Aye,’ she said. Turning to Jarek she added, ‘I wanted to ask you about your coms. It would be useful for us to have some of them below.’
‘I’ll see if I can sort that once we’ve fixed the point-defences. Are you all right to leave Damaru and Taro to it now?’ Jarek didn’t want to hassle her, but they had several hours’ work ahead of them, and the lasers only had to let in a large enough spec of debris with the wrong trajectory . . . He’d heard the spacers’ legend – hopefully just a spacers’ legend! – about a broken beanstalk that had wrapped itself around the equator of the planet it had been built to serve, cutting deep into the world’s surface like a wire through butter.
‘Aye. Let us go,’ Kerin said after one last long look at the retreating figure of her son.
As they walked out of the hold, he asked, ‘How are things going down there anyway?’
‘We are progressing, slowly. The old Cariad encouraged mistrust and intrigue, and her ways still hold sway in the Tyr. Outside, the falling fire has passed, of course, though there was another, lesser ailment that came as it left.’
‘A new disease?’
‘Aye, a flux; quite unpleasant, though rarely fatal.’
‘Oh.’ He felt sick.
‘What is it, Sais?’
‘That might have been my fault,’ he admitted.
‘Your fault? How can a disease be your fault?’
‘Serenein has been isolated for a long time. I could have brought
that disease with me without realising it. I could’ve just been a carrier, or maybe I had a really mild case myself, but your people wouldn’t have had any immunity. If I’d been in my right mind I might have thought of that at the time – and if I hadn’t been so distracted this time . . . damn. Well, it’s not too late. We’ve been pretty thoroughly decontaminated recently, but all of us should get checked out in the Setting Sun’s medbay before anyone leaves the ship.’
‘That sounds like a wise precaution.’
They had reached the engineering locker, which was actually a decent-sized storeroom. It didn’t take Jarek long to collect the right tools. He checked the schematics on his com.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘we need to lift the deck plating along the route of the central bus to expose the trunk cabling. I’ll explain what and why if you’re interested, but it’s basically just a matter of taking up a load of panels.’
Once they’d got started, Kerin said, a little apprehensively, ‘You said you had a gift for me – for us.’
‘Yes, I do. It’s a beacon, a device that can link you into human-space.’
‘So my world will no longer be lost?’
‘Exactly. Here, take this please—’
She lifted the first panel from his hands and propped it against the wall behind her. When she turned back to face him her expression was thoughtful. ‘Is Serenein the first such isolated world to join the many worlds of humanity?’
‘Yes and no. After the Sidhe Protectorate fell things went a bit crazy. Some systems suffered a catastrophic collapse; others were out of contact for decades, even centuries, although they were eventually rediscovered. But none of the systems we’ve found so far were deliberately hidden the way yours has been. Though the rest of humanity didn’t know about them, their inhabitants generally knew there was someone else out there.’
‘So there could be other lost worlds, as yet undiscovered?’
‘It’s possible.’ He carefully lined the screwdriver up with the furthest screw, then paused before pushing it home, thinking about how much he should actually say to her.