Farfetch tdt-2

by Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  His eyelids fluttered.

  Shock throttled a sob half spent in her throat. She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “Jindigar!”

  There was no further response, and she could find no pulse. She put her ear over his nose and thought she felt the slightest movement, the barest warmth. He could be dying in shock! It was the first time she’d noticed the predawn chill that had turned her own flesh to cold putty.

  She swallowed panic and looked around. A sleeping bag! Where? Her impulse was to start tearing at the tarps that covered the sleds scattered about. She hadn’t stowed the gear, had no idea what was where. Storm!

  She staggered to her feet, shaking from suppressing frantic haste. The sleds were scattered amid broken flyers and dead troopers, the refugees slumped here and there like discarded toys. How’ d the natives get the sleds out of there?

  She dragged herself to her feet, touching the two naked Holot, Irnils and Terab. She noted they were alive with the detachment of the Dushau for an ephemeral. Something inside her would always see as a Dushau now. She didn’t know who she was, or what was real, what mere phantasm or nightmare. But Jindigar’s life depended on her.

  She found Prey’s body. Not all a dream! Had she killed him, seizing the triad? Had that really happened? She was too drained to grieve again. Beyond him were two amorphous lumps, odd amid the armored bodies, discarded energy weapons, and debris of crashed flyers. Must be Lehiroh.

  Weaving and lurching, she made it to them and found the piols curled up between the bodies a strange human male and an emaciated Dushau female. She knew the Dushau—she’d glimpsed her in the triad, when Jindigar had tried to read the sandstorm, and had found them the dry wash and the cave. Her image had set Jindigar’s face glowing.

  An irrational pang of jealousy seized her, and she turned to search for Storm. Suddenly Rita and Imp raced past her, chittering and squealing. Following, she saw Storm picking himself up near a sled. Weakness banished by adrenalin, she ran to him, shouting, “Storm—where are the sleeping bags? Jindigar’s in shock!”

  By the time she reached the Lehiroh, he had focused on her, and trained reflex had taken over. He surveyed the field, picked a sled, and attacked the lashings, saying, “Give a hand!” Then he climbed up and began heaving down piles of warm bedding and clothing.

  Krinata dragged two fleecy bags to Jindigar, rolled him onto one and covered him with the other, folded double, and was about to climb in to warm him with what little body heat she had when a strange voice behind her asked, in awed wonderment, “That’s Jindigar?”

  She gasped, whirled, and blurted, “Who’re you?”

  “Cyrus Benwilliam-Kulain, Senior Outrider to Avelor’s. Are you Jindigar’s Outrider? Do you have any inidran?”

  She shook her head. “What’s inidran?” The stranger had a mop of sandy curls standing out in spikes around his head and was clad, as the rest of them, only in smudges and grime. Her head was barely shoulder-high on him. She looked up into a craggy, weathered face with a high forehead, aquiline nose, and an engaging smile that now mixed disappointment with a kind of stunned admiration that embarrassed her. She dared not let her gaze fall below his chest for fear of discovering the physical evidence confirming the meaning of that look.

  “Did you say, ‘inidran’?” asked Storm behind her, coming up to examine her scalp burn and to spray it with salve.

  She gestured, holding her head still. “There’s a Dushau woman over there. We need an extra sleeping—” Her flailing hand hit chill Dushau nap. She jerked her head around and discovered she’d hit the emaciated Dushau woman in the face as, body shaking with weakness, she crept up to bend over Jindigar, eyes wide in pure astonishment.

  “Jindigar? It was you! Jindigar!” The look of sensuous rapture on her starved features turned to bottomless terror as she felt his cold flesh.

  Cyrus bent to take her hand away, saying, “Darllanyu, you shouldn’t be up!”

  SEVEN

  Darllanyu

  “He’s not dead!” exclaimed Darllanyu, and then looked beyond the hive to where the sun rose, a slice of new moon barely visible against the mauve sky. “Darllanyu!”

  “Yes, I said ‘inidran,’” repeated Cyrus to Storm.

  “I don’t need inidran, Cy,” she insisted. “Look, the sun’s rising darllanyu.”

  They all inspected the east, as she added, with equal parts hope and determination, “I was born at darllanyu—” At their incomprehension she elaborated. “—when the sun rises coupled to a new moon. Dushaun has two moons, like Phanphihy, but even so, such moments are rare enough to be regarded as omens—which even an Oliat can’t interpret.”

  Cyrus muttered to Storm, “Inidran.”

  Storm nodded and turned to go. “Probably do Jindigar some good too. Krinata, did you know Prey’s dead?”

  She nodded, swallowing back a little choking cough at the reminder, trying not to feel the stinging pain of that death echoing out of the confused depths of memory.

  “No, not inidran,” muttered Darllanyu, pulling aside a fold to put an ear to Jindigar’s chest. “This isn’t just Oliat Dissolution shock. What happened to him?”

  Krinata recited the pertinent facts with a clinical detachment she didn’t feel. Cyrus listened with growing amazement but kept silent. When she’d finished, Darllanyu shook her head, the fear back on her face. “Then I’d say he’s lost in the Archive. Inidran won’t do any good.” She sent Storm in search of other medications that might help.

  Cyrus glanced at the Dushau woman doubtfully, then went with Storm. Krinata asked her, “You’re an Oliat Officer?”

  Darllanyu settled weakly on the edge of the sleeping bag. “I was Outreach to Avelor’s, but we lost three, and now Avelor, so we’re just a triad.” Imp came and curled up on her knees. She cuddled him. “You’re a warm creature.”

  “I’ll get us some clothes,” said Krinata.

  She found Terab soothing the children, and two Lehiroh helping Irnils with the medical supplies. Viradel, Adina, and Fenwick were breaking out rations. As she scrounged an outfit for Darllanyu, she heard Cyrus asking Storm, “You mean you brought all this across that desert with only a duad?”

  “Jindigar’s the best,” bragged Storm. “And Frey, his protégé, was brilliant.”

  “Must have been,” agreed Cyrus, taking the medication for Darllanyu. Krinata gave him the outfit for her, saying, “Go ahead, I’ll bring some food.”

  He nodded. “The natives fed us, but their diet—” He shook his head, added a smile of gratitude, and left.

  With-increasing anxiety as day advanced, they dressed and ate, expecting the Squadron to return for their dead any moment now. Then they reassembled the caravan, Cy pitching right in. The Lehiroh—who never mixed with any of the others—accepted him instantly. He worked without a spoken direction, tossing and catching things like a member of their team. He even helped dig Prey’s grave.

  Krinata’s tears flowed freely. Frey had never let her get close, but he’d have made a good friend. Did I kill him? His death had probably trapped Jindigar. Frey never did anything to deserve this! And neither did Jindigar!

  She didn’t remember everything and didn’t understand much of what she thought had happened. On the way bad to the sleds after the scant moments of the burial, she told Darllanyu, “This may have been my fault,” and recited Jindigar’s warnings about Prey’s condition.’

  “I’m sure Jindigar wouldn’t allow you to accept all the responsibility. You responded as anyone might have.” Dark Dushau eyes came to focus on Krinata. “I’ve felt the hive’s attack too. I couldn’t have done better than you did.” They parted, but Krinata found Darllanyu directing a puzzled stare at her at odd moments as they formed up to march.

  The Lehiroh set the course along the line Jindigar had held, but Darllanyu came to the lead sled and corrected the heading. “Our settlement is that way, ten days’ march-maybe fifteen or twenty with this caravan.”

  “There’re more people on mis
world?” asked Storm.

  “Friends and associates of Raichmat’s zunre,” answered Cy. “Didn’t Jindigar—”

  “He never said others were already here!”

  Krinata suddenly knew what had given Jindigar hope but left him doubting his own senses. “He must have contacted Avelor’s Oliat from back in the desert!” Frey had thought he was trapped in the Archive, babbling about the dawn.

  Darllanyu added, “Yes, we saw him—that’s why we came out here, looking for you.”

  Storm said, “We’ll be trailed by the Squadron. We can’t lead them to the settlement!”

  “Everyone there is waiting for us,” argued Darllanyu “Cy and I must bring Jindigar there, even if you choose another course.”

  Terab had arrived to hear part of the discussion. “We can’t stand here arguing,” she decreed. “For now, we head for this settlement. What’s between here and there?”

  “A river gorge and a grassland. Large herbivores,” said Cy, “and predators to match. Dozens of kinds of hives, some scavengers.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s going to be fun getting the sleds across the gorge.”

  “Storm’s a good rigger,” said Ruff. “You any good?”

  “The best. You got semis and half-blocks?”

  “Yes,” said Storm. “Maybe Jindigar will be able to help by then.” They had him secured atop the sled that carried the children and piols, for none of the medications had done any good. Darllanyu had concocted a syrupy mixture from ration bars, which they’d managed to get him to swallow a spoonful at a time. It’d keep him alive—maybe.

  Darllanyu answered, “Jindigar can’t help himself. But there’s a Historian at the settlement who might retrieve him—and save the Archive—if we get there quickly enough/’

  Krinata went back to her sled, which had the extra sled tied on behind, determined not to be the one to slow them up. If there was help for Jindigar anywhere, she’d get him there if she had to carry him on her back. But no sooner had Storm called, “for’d” than someone in the rear yelled, “No! Halt!”

  One of the sleds had risen to travel height with one corner dragging. The Lehiroh adjusted it so the corner came clear of the ground and awarded it to Cy, in the position next to Krinata’s tandem rig. Though he limped, Cy didn’t complain about the hard pace the Lehiroh set. They were racing from the Squadron as well as to save Jindigar.

  As the sun arced up into a cloud-studded sky, Krinata caught Cy’s barely repressed grimace of pain and said, ‘Talking takes my mind off my aching feet.” And she told him her theory of why Jindigar hadn’t mentioned contacting them. “I’m sure he didn’t expect anyone to come out after us.”

  “We’ve done it before. Avelor’s knew there was a group here, but from that distance they couldn’t figure who or how many. And they didn’t know about the Squadron when they decided to send us out. Why are they chasing you?”

  She confessed she’d fired the shot that had destroyed the Imperial yacht and Emperor Zinzik too.

  After he got over that he commented, as if she’d confessed to petty larceny, “I guess the Squadron’s not going to give up, then.”

  “Are you still sure you want to bring us to your camp?”

  “You’re not going to survive on this world without an Oliat—” He broke off. “Which we don’t have anymore, but a tetrad will have to do—that is, if they can save Jindigar and he can mesh in with them.”

  She didn’t dare think about that now. “How did the others die’?”

  “Ambush. We had a detachment from the Oliat—the Outreach, Emulator, Protector, Formulator, and five Outriders. Should have been enough, but native warriors, the furry ones, found us by the river gorge. Our Emulator had found a contact method Darllanyu was trying, but more of their warriors arrived, and they took us prisoner.”

  “I don’t think you can communicate with the furry warriors. Jindigar called the white-skin we found a ‘herald,’ and I think they’re the only ones who talk outside the hive,” said Krinata, and then had to relate that story.

  “You’re probably right. But we didn’t know that, and when the warriors got rough with our Emulator and Formulator, of course my crew moved in to do our job. They took it wrong and speared one of my women and—well, to be fan-, I don’t think they realized the Dushau were noncombatants, and they killed the Emulator, which paralyzed the others, so we couldn’t get away. They had us trussed up and carried off before we knew what was happening. Two of my guards were killed at the river. They were the lucky ones.

  “When they got us to their hive, before the Dushau could recover from Dissolution shock, the little shelled ones stung us. Powerful drug. I don’t remember much but—I think my men killed each other. I never saw the Formulator or the Protector again. At least Darllanyu survived.” He glanced at her sideways, his feeling for Darllanyu clear. “I guess I can’t refer to her as Outreach anymore.” He shook his head. “I’ve never lost a charge before.”

  The pain of that confession brought silence between them. At the first rest stop he joined the Lehiroh in their incessant checking of the equipment.

  They were out of sight of the hive now, but they’d left a trail through the grass. Terab called them together for a conference, introducing Darllanyu as part of a triad.

  The Dushau said, “Sometime tonight—tomorrow morning at the latest—there’ll be a strong storm crossing through here. It should obliterate our trail from orbital reconnaissance. The farther we can go before the storm hits, the better chance we have of eluding the Squadron.”

  The rest of the day became one of those blurs of sheer endurance that had punctuated their lives since they’d left Truth. Only a few incidents stood out clearly.

  Darllanyu, during their next break, tended Jindigar, murmuring in Dushauni, probably expecting that no one else here understood. “You’ll be all right. I’ll see to it.” But Krinata heard the desperation in her voice. “You’ll balance us, and when the work is done, there’ll be time– together.”

  She means in Renewed, thought Krinata, feelings mixed.

  Cy and Darllanyu munched extra ration bars as they went, trying to make up for their long starvation while promising good foraging ahead. But despite their weakened condition, they pushed the pace uncomfortably. When rotation of loads put Krinata beside Adina, she answered everything Krinata said with a complaint about the pace or Jindigar’s bad judgment in getting involved with Chinchee. “He deserved what he got!” Krinata held her tongue, refusing to defend Jindigar where no defense was needed, and she passed the time probing into her own mind as one might tongue a sore spot in the mouth.

  There was an aching hole where she’d become accustomed to Desdinda’s rage. Her whole body felt relaxed and at peace, despite scrapes, bruises, and the scalp bum. But there was also something else. Every thought, every perception seemed tinged with a thought pattern she recognized as Takora—as if she halfway shared those memories. When she thought of Jindigar, it was as a tall, gangling youth of surprising energy and innocence, restlessly seeking, constantly testing his convictions.

  Krinata had never been awed by Jindigar’s nearly seven thousand years’ seniority on her, but neither had she felt affectionately amused by him. Reluctantly she decided she’d traded Desdinda’s ghost for Takora’s. Exorcising Desdinda had been such a disaster, she couldn’t think of throwing Takora out. Besides, she seemed benevolent. Ignored, perhaps she’d eventually fade away.

  It was well after full dark when they camped. While hauling water to bathe Jindigar, she overheard a comment Adina made to Cy. “Our Lady Zavaronne never spoke a word to me all afternoon. Because she’s in with Jindigar, she thinks she’s too good to associate with common humans!”

  “Lady Zavaronne!” But he swept that aside, asking, “What do you mean, ‘in with Jindigar’?”

  Adina and Viradel related their highly colored version of Krinata’s adventures with the triad. Krinata had few com– punctions about eavesdropping on shameless gossips, but listenin
g to herself being painted as an interspecies whore hurt. She’d have no friends if they spread such things around the settlement. But she couldn’t worry about that now. Jindigar was still catatonic and had to be carefully tended if he was going to survive.

  It started to rain exactly when Darllanyu had predicted, but by then they had rigged tarps over the sleds and set a shielded smoke hole for a cook fire because they all needed hot food and a warm place to sleep. Krinata bedded the children down, with sedatives to ease the nightmares, then she signed up for the third watch, her favorite, because nightmares usually struck just at dawn.

  She was asleep before she’d completely sealed her sleeping bag. She woke with two piols struggling to get inside to share her warmth. The fire had burned low.

  Darllanyu was sitting next to it, feeding it twigs, while beside her, Cy roasted a chunk of meat on a stick, trying to argue her into going back to sleep. Krinata turned over, trying to block out the low voices.

  As Cy ate his snack they fell to discussing the multicolony. It seemed Cy knew all about the conspiracy and approved of it. “So you say there’s a chance Ambassador Trinarvil may still turn up to balance the Oliat?”

  “She intended to but had to return to Dushaun first. If she can get away, she’ll bring as many as she can—but Zinzik had Dushaun blockaded when we left. Trinarvil may be dead by now.”

  After a silence Cy asked, “Am I being too intrusive? I mean, it seemed like you wanted to talk—”

  “I do. Jindigar—I never told you we were first mates. We had no children. That’s typical of a first Renewal, you know. I last saw him at the birth of his first daughter. Ws agreed—to try again someday.” She threw a stick into the fire. “But I don’t know if he can work with Trinarvil now, or she with him. Or with me, for that matter. It’s tricky– with both of us so close to Renewal.”

  She’s close to Renewal too? This was completely different from overhearing Adina maligning her. This was private. Krinata extracted herself from bedroll and piols, pulled on jacket and boots, and went to check on Jindigar before joining them at the fire. Cy offered her a chunk of meat, and Darllanyu moved aside to make a place for her on the soft pile of grass. Even thus welcomed, Krinata couldn’t meet Cy’s gaze for thinking of Adina’s words.