“Are we too close?” Diana asked nervously, feeling the wind ripple around the narrow canyon’s bend. Here there were only gusty drafts from the heights above.
“I will not let them sense us,” Elana promised quietly. Di’nay’s hand touched her shoulder briefly in thanks. That was strange, Elana thought as they retreated to where Garrison lay in the shadowy crevice… it was strange how well Di’nay appreciated the talents Elana herself took for granted. But then, Elana smiled, Di’nay was sometimes flattered but bemused by Elana’s respect too.
“Oh, Dearest Mother,” Diana groaned, collapsing into the small space. The thought of her aching shoulder supporting Garrison while she wielded a sword was not very realistic. She sighed. “We cannot fight our way onto the path.”
Elana agreed, “The route to the Path is too long. They would too easily track us in the tunnels. If at all possible, we must slip by them undetected.”
Diana sat up a little straighter, eyeing the encampment in the distance. “Did I see horses on the far side there?”
Elana nodded. “A scruffy lot. There are about ten saddle mounts and two dozen pack animals.”
Their shelters were rough wood shanties, Diana noted.
“Are you thinking of a diversion?”
Diana’s head tipped absent-mindedly. Abruptly she turned and dug into the side pocket of her pack, producing her box of emergency matches. It just might work!
† † †
Carefully Diana peered out from behind the rocks. She glanced down at the crossbow in her hand, checking the set of the bolts. She wished for her long bow, but in this small space she could not stand up to use it.
Across the compound the horses stirred, and Diana squinted to see. A light swirl of the dust made it difficult to make out the corral, and she blinked. She should know better by now than to try to find Elana from such a distance. How many times had the woman simply appeared beside their campfire? She turned back to her watch, concentrating on the Changlings that lounged around the fire of their noon meal. Two sentries stood a little way off at the mine’s entrance. They were fighting boredom with their dice.
She looked back to the horses. The dusty air seemed thicker nearer the corral. She did admire the woman’s skill.
Behind the outhouse a thin trail of smoke from the small fire began. It crept skyward and then abruptly all trace of it vanished. Diana smiled with a grim satisfaction. The loosened horses might keep everyone’s attention, but the ‘careless pipe ashes’ that Elana made them think had set the outhouse ablaze would prompt everyone’s immediate action. One without the other would not insure that the sentries left their post. She hoped their curious habit of watching over their shoulders and checking the winds would reassure them that no one had gained entry.
Her sleeve was brushed and Diana gasped with a start.
“Me,” Elana said softly. She remained half-crouched, her eyes unfocused as she stared toward the corral. “I cannot control the illusion or the stallion much longer.”
“Let the fire start first,” Diana reminded her gently, careful not to distract. “We want it to seem as if the horses panicked.”
Ivory skin began to darken ever so slightly as amarin focused. Diana turned quickly back to the encampment.
“It’s burning,” Elana whispered.
“Let it go.”
Flames licked out, suddenly bursting to the height of the shack. Dried timbers cracked, and with a yell the door was flung open. Breeches half-down, the figure raced from the smoking latrine, stumbling and rolling as he tripped on his clothes. And the entire camp jumped with the alarm.
“Now,” Diana ordered.
The brown stallion rose with a piercing scream and the loosened rails clattered under his hooves. The herd moved as the animal reared again, and with a bound the brown lunged through the fallen fence.
The thundering hooves brought the camp into action. Buckets were snatched from hooks, and the stream splashed with feet. With a shout the captain brought the sentries in, and together the pair grabbed ropes for the animals.
Diana dropped the crossbow back into Elana’s hands, and hoisted Garrison up and settled his weight over a shoulder. Elana glanced at her. She nodded ahead.
In a scrambling sprint they rounded the rocks. The noise around them seemed further away as they moved, and Diana fleetingly wondered if it was Elana’s doing. But there was no more than a thought to spare. With a last gasp of open air, she dove into the tunnel. The scattered torches seemed too few but Diana refused to think. Her eyes were bent on following Elana’s booted heels, and quickly they pressed forward.
Panic rose in her throat like poisoned bile. She fought it down.
These Changlings must have the night vision of an eitteh; the torches were set four and five hundred feet apart. Sweating, she wished the flashlight could be tucked into her belt, but they dare not risk it. Their footsteps seemed lost in the echoing blackness. She wondered how Elana was moving so confidently. But then she remembered that this tunnel was used often now, and there would be glowing life signs for Elana to see by.
Dear Goddess, just as long as Elana could see, she would follow. She swore it!
The path twisted and turned, sometimes dropping, sometimes climbing. Diana lost track of time, but didn’t want to know how long an eternity she was to spend beneath the ground this trip, or how many leagues would pass under her feet. She needed to concentrate on walking, on keeping her tread soundless, on moving forward.
Her sweat went cold, making her skin shiver. She gritted her teeth. The weight of the pilot slipped some. She swallowed a curse and shifted him back.
“We’ll rest soon.”
Diana nodded awkwardly, disoriented by the disembodied voice. They had indeed come far.
A hand touched her arm gently, reassuringly. “I’m here, Di’nay.”
Could she have forgotten, Elana was here? Her breathing steadied, and she forced a dry swallow. Surprised, she found the aching in her chest had eased.
“Yes, I’m here.”
And finally, for the first time since she had decided to enter this ancient tunnel, Diana realized that she truly was not alone — that this time was different, and she knew she could make it.
In the darkness, Elana smiled at the silent victory. She was so very proud of her Amazon. Perhaps now, this ghost would finally know rest.
† † †
Chapter Five
The whoosh of the vacuum seal filled the waiting area. With a grimace, Cleis tugged down her jacket and turned to face the V.I.P.’s privileged gate. She despised government officials, and the formality of her best dress uniform did nothing to ease her temper.
The airlock slid back, the boisterous laughter of the passengers announcing their arrival. Half a dozen military and civilian men emerged, still sharing their off-color anecdotes; Cleis clenched her teeth in silence. The male bastion of ribald humor had never been one of her favorites. She was not going to be a very tolerant escort if she had to deliver the lot of them to Thomas. Mentally she groaned at the thought of Baily’s knowing grin as these idiots arrived.
With a mute sternness she stepped before the group. The men stopped, surprised at the appearance of a woman. A few nervous throats cleared and shoes scuffled as she turned so the insignia across her left shoulder became visible. An Amazon was not a person to be casually overlooked.
“Ah yes.” An older man pushed his way forward. “You must be my shuttle captain. N’Athena, isn’t it?”
Could this mild, balding gentleman be the same person that sent Thomas into shivering stupidity? Cleis did not show her surprise. With a military informality that few planets allowed, she refrained from saluting and stiffly extended her hand. “Assemblyman, Military Governor Balawick Haladay?”
Behind him the men stirred, disquieted at the seemingly disrespectful greeting. He grinned. “Hush there, boys.” He winked conspiratorially at the young Amazon. “This is a n’Athena. Can’t stand on high’n’protocol when we’re
around royalty now, can we?”
Backs straightened and a nod or two of apology were directed her way. Cleis fought to hide her smile.
“How soon can we be under way? My baggage is all right in here.” He gestured with the pipe in his hand at an ancient leather briefcase.
“We can depart immediately, if you like.”
“Splendid.” He turned and shook hands with a few men, muttering instructions and last minute details. His quiet, cheerful manner bemused Cleis as he disentangled himself from the party quickly.
He was a renowned enough figure to be recognized by several of the militia corps as well as the lounging civilian travelers as they walked the length of the station. But with his quiet, smiling demeanor, Balawick Haladay merely waved his pipe or tipped his head in acknowledgement and continued on. A diplomat, Cleis decided as she admired his amiable ability to keep the people at bay. He was considerably less self-centered than most officials, she conceded — at least outwardly.
Cleis reminded herself that men usually came to be involved with the Sisterhood because of something in their pasts they needed to hide — something politically or personally so sordid that to have it come to the public’s awareness would mean instant ruin. And always the closeted ghosts dealt with the traumatic abuse of women. No matter how pleasant Governor Haladay appeared, she needed to remember that somewhere — sometime he had been charged and found guilty by dey Sorormin and to this day was still held accountable.
As she waved him into the shuttle craft, he said, “I do apologize for the crassness of my companions.” He followed her forward into the control cabin, quite matter-of-factly settling himself into the empty co-pilot’s chair. “They’ve unfortunately had a very limited exposure to the Sisterhood out here. I admit, they are sorely lacking in basic manners. I do hope you didn’t mind my little royalty ploy there. I assure you, I meant no offense. Nobility is about the closest concept they’ve got to your Sisters’ shared esteem.”
Cleis busied herself with her pre-flight check. Flattery and truth were too easily mixed, but she had to acknowledge that there was some truth to his words. By imperial standards, dey Sorormin did attempt to endow a ‘royal status’ on each of their daughters — those qualities of personal respect and treasured esteem. A pity, actually, that the Empire was so tied into ambitious values and hierarchy.
He did not seem to mind her lack of reply as he sighed and sank back into the deeply padded seat. His eyes were bright with an almost boyish pleasure as he pocketed his eternally unlit pipe and watched the console of lights and levers before him. “I do so love flight decks.” Cleis could not help a small smile.
Launch and initial trajectory were accomplished smoothly. Her fingers flicked the autopilot on, and she triple-checked coordinates and their re-entry position.
The stars glittered. Cleis could see that he was enraptured by the velvety expanse; this majesty clearly touched his soul. It reassured her and confused her.
He pulled his wire-rimmed glasses free, cleaning them with his handkerchief. Cleis did not miss the hasty swipe across his eyes as he murmured, “Always takes me by surprise.” The glasses awkwardly returned to their place, and he smiled. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“No…” She couldn’t prevent the warmth of reassurance from creeping into her voice. “…you didn’t.”
“Yes? Good then.” He relaxed and cleared his throat. “I did want the opportunity to run over a few things with you. I realize I’m a poor partner for this sort of venture, but I’ll do my best not to raise suspicions.”
Cleis held her breath, suddenly mistrusting him again.
“The background Cara forwarded to me is all in place.” He pulled his briefcase up, unsnapping the thick strap. His movements belied his age — quick, efficient and not in the least clumsy. She suspected the mind behind this pleasant exterior was no less clumsy.
“N’Sappho,” he read triumphantly. “Elana n’Sappho — the papers are in order, and there shouldn’t be any traceable connection. I had my personal secretary enter it all directly — after hours. He’s quite reliable, and I pulled the entire thing up to double-check for holes before leaving. No one should be able to link her with any planet of origin save your own. Even if Baily gets suspicious, he won’t find evidence to support anything out of the ordinary.”
Her dark eyes narrowed. In a galactic border quadrant spies were generally numerous, and it was not all that unusual to forge entry documents or scramble assignment dates.
“Please now, don’t take offense.” His smile faded to an expression of gentle reassurance, and quietly he explained, “There have been several of these requests passed across my desk in the last decade. I am not entirely blind to the implications.
“What I need from you,” he continued, pulling his pipe out now that they were safely under way, “is an idea of what your Commander Baily is like. I’ve never met the man personally. Is he apt to make trouble over this? Is he going to buy the idea that this Sister has been down on Aggar for some three years?”
The tension in her lower back eased. Fleetingly she was grateful for the rib belt as she realized how tight the muscles had become. She didn’t need to shift that rib out here. “Thomas Baily is not overly creative, but he abides by the regulations well enough.”
“The man is obviously overwhelmed — beyond his competence,” he muttered, reading between her phrases well. “How nasty does he get?”
“He has a great respect for your authority.”
Merriment lit his bespectacled eyes, coaxing half a smile from her. “I’ll try not to intimidate him too much.”
They laughed together at that, and Cleis decided, against her better judgment, that she liked this Balawick Haladay. “Actually, Thomas is already nervous about your arrival. When I left him, he was pulling up your classifieds on Elana.”
“It seems as if he bought the three year story then?”
“Somewhat,” she admitted, warily. “He has a habit of prioritizing the depot functions and neglecting the cultural-political details.”
“Dangerous habit so close to the edge.” The Governor chewed thoughtfully on his pipe. “I’ll take a look at his files more closely when I get home. I already have my suspicions. Garrison was right on schedule when he hit this solar system. I think it a bit odd that he wasn’t hauled in by the orbital crews before he hit atmosphere.”
Cleis shrugged noncommittally. As much as she detested Thomas, she was not about to accuse him of something she had no knowledge about.
“What you’re telling me is that Baily is too nervous about his own efficiency to contradict anything that has my approval on it, even if he is suspicious?”
“As it stands.”
“How about you and — Diana n’Athena? What kind of relationship do you supposedly have to this Elana n’Sappho?”
“I’m to have met her once. When she came down, I did an initial orientation before she went out solo — ”
“That was supposedly because Baily was on Crigil III, right?”
“Yes.” He was prepared, Cleis thought. “At the moment, Diana is working with her to bring Garrison in. I already accused Thomas of setting Elana up with Diana intentionally — perhaps by your orders. Diana did not meet Elana at orientation.”
He nodded, clearly shifting facts and possibilities. “The story must be plausible — and simple is usually best. I will admit I did not intentionally order her to go after Garrison — that’s too recent a development. Baily would expect to have records of some sort of message relay. But I’ll agree that she was supposed to get close to this Council of Ten here and to use her position to the best advantage of the Empire. It ought to be obvious even to a military man that after this escapade she’ll need to come in. Her cover will be too shaky to risk further exposure.”
Cleis nodded, pleased with his logic.
“She’ll report to me for debriefing.” He closed the file and locked it away. “Not to Baily — reasons classified. I’ll mutter
something about an information leak and have him update his security checks — that ought to distract him.”
His cheerful smile returned. “I do hope your Sister n’Athena will include the pertinent details from this woman’s experience in her own reports?”
“I’m sure she will… as always.” They both knew Amazons were notoriously lax in recording details, even if equally notorious in accomplishing the impossible.
“I’ll assure Baily that n’Sappho’s report will be made out during her journey home and that my agent will rendezvous with her on Shekhina.”
“Fair enough.”
“No hope of that actually coming off, eh?”
She grinned. “Difficult to say.”
“Didn’t think so. Sometimes Cara surprises me with a concession, so I ask.”
Cleis didn’t know Cara personally, although she was undoubtedly the Sister charged with watching Haladay. That reminder disturbed her.
Haladay’s smile faded. “I seldom see the woman. She’s not so abused in having to keep track of me.”
“No,” Cleis felt her heart harden, “she wouldn’t allow that from any man.”
He suddenly looked much older as memories shadowed his eyes. “No, she wouldn’t. I am eternally sorry others were not as strong.”
Cleis was surprised and yet unyielding before his apparent remorse.
He tapped the edge of his pipe and sighed, drawing himself back. “I’m a bit different from your usual male recruit, you know.”
Cleis said nothing.
He seemed to be speaking to the stars. “All my life I have worked for humanity. All my life I’ve stood beside the forgotten factions — always working to draw this vast Empire into a consciousness of its own interdependency. How desperately we need each other, how delicate the balance, how idiotic dominance and force!”
A dry, bitter laugh echoed. “And the boy I spawned… what did he become? The very epitome of all I fought. An insatiable, brutal youth who has crushed everything his hand touched.”
He shook his head. “I will always carry my child’s horrors as mine. I was too busy with my worldly concern to give him the emotional help he needed. We avoided and delayed and hoped he would grow beyond it all. He didn’t.
Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar) Page 43