Spinning Starlight

by R. C. Lewis

  “You said you don’t think there’s much time. How long, do you think?”

  “I cannot be precise, but in the Ferinnes’ measure, no more than one moon-cycle. And I suspect the conflicting energies will significantly damage the Khua before that, if they have not already begun to do so.”

  I run the numbers quickly, accounting for Ferinne’s and Sampati’s slightly different day lengths. A moon-cycle from now lines up closely with the Tech Reveal. If something bad is coming before that, Minali may be entering another stage of her process. If the Khua are running out of time, so are my brothers.

  Quain can’t help, and just about everyone else is against me, but Spin-Still is right. I’m the one who knows what’s happening. It’s up to me, and a fugitive Haleian and rogue Khua will have to be enough help to get it done.

  My brothers told me to stay out of it, to stay safe and leave it to them. Whatever plan Spin-Still and I can come up with, it’s not likely to be safe at all.

  I’ve spent a lot of years doing what my brothers told me. I think now is a good time to stop.

  It might also be a good time to get back to Ferinne’s surface. A really good time. A time so good, I’m pretty sure it’s Spin-Still’s idea talking to me, and she doesn’t want to wait for me to say good-bye to Quain.

  The metaphorical slingshot pulls back and releases, catapulting me through everything and nothing until I crash-land on the ground.

  Ground, not floor. Grass. Stars above me.

  Not the safe-house.

  Even better, a thin layer of the neurolinguistic goop still covers my hand. All I can do is wipe it off on the grass and hope it isn’t toxic.

  “Liddi!”

  I sit up to find the source of the voice, because I recognize it. Fabin, standing between me and a Khua-and-anchor combination just a few feet away. Still ghostly and only half-here, but he’s also exhausted and terrified. It seems ages since I’ve seen any of the boys, and more than ever I wish I could hug him.

  “Where were you?” he demands. “Are you all right? We felt it—that you were gone.”

  I point straight up. That’s the best I can do to explain I was on an orbiting spaceship, and he can see from looking at me that I’m in one piece.

  “Okay, never mind. I don’t know how long I can hold myself here, but I have to tell you, I have to explain. Liddi, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault, all of it.”

  The anguish in his voice chills me. I reach for his hands, even though I can barely feel them.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he continues. “We were all working on the conduits, and I was studying energy signatures. I thought I saw something, so I kept looking, and it seemed like there was a gap, something keeping the signature from being complete. The missing piece reminded me of a biological energy signature, but a little more complex. So I mentioned that to Minali. It was just an observation, I never imagined she’d use people, or any living thing. Not like this. It’s madness. She’s so convinced it’s the solution, locking us in here. And the portals, the conduits are hurting them, and we’re stuck partly in the conduits, partly in between the two. We thought maybe we could force a bigger separation, keeping them apart—we’ve tried, but we can’t. We can’t. There’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

  Fabin is ranting, something I’ve never seen any of my brothers do. I can’t speak to calm him. I can’t put my arms around him. I look at the Khua hovering between its spires. Then I look at Spin-Still in the sempu—the crystal disk.

  Interference. If the disk can only hold one Khua, I wonder what would happen if I tried to put another in.

  SPIN-STILL HAS NO IDEA.

  No time for research and bench tests. I’m going to have to jump straight to the full-scale experiment.

  I hold up one finger to tell Fabin to wait. Then I take Spin-Still from around my neck and loop the cord on my hand several times so the disk rests against my palm. A few steps carry me to the other Khua, and it’s only on my approach that I realize something’s different.

  The Khua’s power, I still feel it, but it’s no longer a sleeping giant waiting to crush me on a whim. It’s a power bound, a being in trouble, crying for help. Like it’s too large to help itself. With a silent hope that I’m small enough, I raise my hand to the mote of light.

  It doesn’t join with the disk and form the energy field like I saw with Tiav, but the two do collide. The impact sends hundreds of tiny needles into my hand—at least, it feels like it—and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. I blink through tears and see the Khua pressed against the face of the disk.

  Now that I have a physical connection, I need to break it free from the anchors. In theory.

  All I can do is follow my instincts, pushing it away from myself. Or I try to. It’s like it weighs twice as much as Yilt. So I bring my other hand behind the first, using both arms to push.

  The needles burrow deeper. Every fraction of an inch takes all the strength I have. Half the exertion is from the effort not to scream. I couldn’t scream if I wanted to. I can’t breathe.

  Finally it’s enough. The Khua breaks free from the anchors, floating off to who-knows-where, and I stumble forward a few steps.

  It worked.

  “Setting it loose on this side,” Fabin says. “Clever girl.”

  He hasn’t called me that in years. The words bring a Khua-sized glow, even if Spin-Still is really the clever one.

  IT WASN’T HER IDEA. IT WAS MINE.

  It’s getting a little easier to separate Spin-Still’s gut-speak from my own gut instincts, so I guess the idea of how to free the Khua was mine. I unwind the cord and find my hand is bleeding. Dozens of pinpricks, tiny but deep.

  “You’re hurt!”

  Fabin saw, but it doesn’t matter. I shrug. It has to be done.

  His jaw sets, acknowledging he doesn’t like it but can’t do anything about it. “All right. I’ll let the others know what you’re doing. We’ll try to find a way to help. Be strong, Liddi.”

  Always, I’m trying. Fabin disappears, leaving me alone with Spin-Still. The other Khua has either wandered out of sight or disappeared as well. There are alarms of some type to detect Khua-tampering—I know that from the night I was arrested—so I’d better get going before the keepers arrive.

  Or the Aelo. When I first arrived on Ferinne, Tiav responded to the alarm. I can’t begin to guess what assumptions he and Shiin and Jahmari will make about what I’ve done, what betrayal they’ll read into it, what possible explanation they’ll come up with. It’s unlikely to be anywhere close to the truth. Knowing that brings a fresh surge of heartache.

  I have to get out of here. I wonder if Spin-Still can slingshot me back to the safe-house.

  SHE CAN’T. BUT I’M NOT FAR FROM CIM.

  Time to run.

  The summer got unbearably hot, beyond what the weather modulators could handle. So hot, Luko threatened to make those modulators his next project, upgrading them so they could truly control the weather, rather than just smoothing out most hurricanes and the like. The Jantzens could have stayed inside—Dom kept the house perfectly comfortable—but it was summer. Summer was not for being locked up in the house.

  Liddi wasn’t allowed to go swimming on her own, which she hated. The triplets were definitely allowed on their own when they were ten. Fabin didn’t like her going with just those three, either, convinced they would get too distracted to notice a river snake strangling their little sister. That was ridiculous—even Ciro wouldn’t be that irresponsible, and Emil would never let anything hurt Liddi—but with Durant, Luko, and Vic out of the house, Fabin was in charge. The rule wouldn’t have been so bad, except Fabin was spending more time in the city with the older brothers. Anton was gone almost as much, usually spending time with various girls, according to Marek.

  Every time one of Liddi’s brothers got old enough to operate a hovercar, it was like another thread loosened in the seams of their family.

  Finally, though, Anton stayed home one day
and agreed to take the younger kids swimming. They hiked out to the widest part of the river—the hike itself was almost too much in the heat—stripped down to their swimsuits, and cannonballed in.

  It was the Sentinel’s paradise. Just cool enough to be comfortable, and deep enough to test Liddi’s swimming skills. The triplets took turns jumping into the water from a tree branch high above. Anton shook his head at them a few times, but didn’t make them stop. Liddi kept busy swimming back and forth and flipping under the water.

  When she got tired, she went to lean against a tree on the bank, just long enough to rest. A moment later, she felt something on her head. She reached up and touched it: cold and wet. Before she could panic, Marek was laughing.

  “Careful, Liddi, toads will make you ugly.”

  A toad. Liddi tried to grab it so she could take a look, but it hopped down to her shoulder. Good enough. It was red with yellow and black markings along its back.

  “Something pretty isn’t that likely to make me ugly,” she retorted.

  “Maybe that’s how it gets pretty,” Ciro said. “It steals the ‘pretty’ from little girls.”

  Anton splashed water at all three of them. “Grow up, you null-skulls. Liddi, you can be as pretty as you want. And you look like Mom, so you probably will be. But you’re a Jantzen. Make sure that toad doesn’t steal the brains from you, and you’ll be fine.”

  Liddi took the toad from her shoulder, kissed it just to make the boys shout with disgust, and set it on the bank to go on its way. The triplets had their first time at the Tech Reveal when they were Liddi’s age, but she hadn’t come up with anything to show this year. Not a big deal—the rest of the boys didn’t debut until they were eleven or twelve. Liddi knew she wasn’t just a Jantzen—she was the Jantzen. The one who would take over the company. For her, a clever debut wouldn’t be good enough.

  It had to be amazing. And amazing would take time.

  Hopefully that toad hadn’t stolen her brains. And if the kiss gave her a little luck, that wouldn’t hurt, either.

  I KNOW ONE THING FOR SURE. As long as I have Spin-Still around my neck, I don’t have to worry about getting lost. She has a super-solid sense of direction. That shouldn’t surprise me, since she launched me into orbit with such accuracy, but it does make it strange that she can’t do the same to get me back to the safe-house.

  KHUA SEND TRAVELERS USING TWO ENERGY SIGNATURES—THE ORIGIN AND THE TARGET. THEY HAVE TO BE DIFFERENT, USUALLY DIFFERENT PLANETS. GETTING TO QUAIN MEANT LEAVING THE CORE OF FERINNE AND TARGETING THE STRANGE ENERGY OF THE IZIM. THAT MADE IT WORK.

  I get the feeling I could spend the rest of my life studying Khua mechanics and barely understand a tenth of what they do. The Aelo have generations of knowledge. I wonder how much Tiav understands that he wasn’t able to tell me.

  Thinking about him is less than smart. I thought I’d left the aching guilt behind at the empty spires, but now it returns, doubled as I imagine what he’ll think when he discovers what I just did. I want to explain to him—I should have explained everything sooner—but Quain is right. The planetary officials would take too much time discussing instead of acting, and the Agnac in particular will never believe I’ve knocked a Khua loose for everyone’s good. At this point, I doubt anyone will. Asking them to believe that would be like asking me a year ago to believe portals are alive.

  I can’t worry about Tiav. What energy I have has to go to moving fast and not getting caught. That’s more than enough to worry about.

  Approaching Cim gives me a good distraction. Some Haleians are out walking the streets, and I don’t know whether they’ve seen the news-vids with “Please help us find poor lost Liddi.” Spin-Still gives me an instinct-level sense of where the safe-house is, but I can’t take the most direct route. I stick to smaller roads, darker alleys, and finally reach my destination.

  Yilt doesn’t exactly look happy to see me, but I don’t think I’ve seen what a happy Haleian looks like yet.

  “Quain contacted me two hours ago to say you’d returned.”

  Before I can think of a way to explain the detour, he activates a news-vid. It shows two empty anchors, but I recognize the hills around them. They’re not the ones I just left; they’re Spin-Still’s.

  “We’ve received new and disturbing information about the missing Lost Points visitor named Liddi,” the voice-over begins. “She’s reportedly interfered with at least two Khua, both of which are now missing from their shrines.”

  I don’t know what shrines are other than another name for the anchors, but it feels like a word the Agnac would use.

  “Speaking on behalf of the Aelo Prelacy, Shiin’alo indicates she is unable to tell us Liddi’s aims or what effect this will have on the Khua as a whole. The Agnac Hierarchy considers this a capital offense and has asked for an inquiry into Shiin’alo’s fitness as Primary Aelo.”

  The image switches to Oxurg from the council. “Shiin’alo has had our respect, but we now wonder if our patience with her unorthodox ways has been in error. Her involvement must be questioned, and our people will provide volunteers to guard as many shrines as possible. In light of these new developments, I have ordered the release of Agnac cititzens involved in the recent riot in Podra.”

  Kalkig and the other Agnac are free again, Shiin’s under heavy scrutiny, and I’m a fugitive. My head feels skewered by all this news.

  Yilt deactivates the wallscreen and turns to me. “Two Khua. Are you carrying the second as well?”

  I shake my head and sketch a quick explanation. Two spires with a spark of energy in the middle, then two spires with a spark of energy off to the right.

  “You set it free? Quain said you were unbinding the Khua from their anchors. He meant the shrines?”

  Yes, the shrines, the anchors, the crystal monoliths of doom…whatever he wants to call them. I point to the first drawing, with the Khua still anchored, and hold up three fingers.

  “You’ve freed three of them?”

  No. I try to be patient as he guesses again.

  “You need to free a third?”

  Right. I hold up four fingers, five, six, and on until I run out.

  Yilt stretches his broad shoulders, but I have no idea what the gesture means. “This is important? You heard them—this is a capital offense. I need to know it’s important.”

  I don’t know what “capital offense” means, and it takes a moment for Yilt to see that’s the part I’m stuck on.

  “If we’re caught, our punishment could be death.”

  Right, that. Tiav and Jahmari said laws allowing execution were still around. I’ve finally crossed a line that could justify enforcing those laws by anyone’s standards, not just the Agnac’s.

  Is it that important? If it were just my brothers, I would say no, and the admission startles me. I couldn’t ask this person I hardly know to risk his whole life for men he’s never met. Important to me doesn’t make it important to everyone. But Minali’s harming the Khua, and that endangers entire planets.

  Definitely important.

  “Right, we can work out a strategy and get going in the morning.”

  NO, SPIN-STILL DOESN’T LIKE THAT IDEA. NIGHT IS BETTER. NIGHT IS WHEN THE BONDS TO THE ANCHORS ARE JUST A LITTLE LOOSER.

  Interesting. Maybe that’s why I can only see my brothers at night. Regardless, if the bonds are looser, I’m all for it. I don’t know that my hand can take it if it’s any harder.

  Yilt grabs my wrist. I didn’t realize I was flexing my fingers, but he noticed. The pinpricks stopped bleeding during my run back, but my whole palm stings and aches.

  “What happened?”

  I shrug. As far as I know, it’s just part of the process. It hurts, but it’s not going to kill me. I take my hand back and add to my drawing. Three moons and stars in the sky.

  “It has to be at night?”

  Apparently so.

  He tilts his head back. It feels like a sigh. Then he taps several commands on the wallscreen, pulli
ng up something that fills the whole space. A map. Land masses, large bodies of water…based on the scale, it might be the entire planet. Tiny white lights dot the expanse.

  “These are all of the Khua shrines on Ferinne,” Yilt says. “Where would you like to start?”

  A quick look lets me estimate the number. Thousands. There are thousands of them. There’s no way I can get them all.

  I DON’T NEED TO. I JUST NEED TO GET ENOUGH. THE RIGHT ONES. MINIMIZE THE DAMAGE BECAUSE I CAN’T STOP IT COMPLETELY. IT’LL HAVE TO DO.

  I don’t know what’s enough.

  NEITHER DOES SPIN-STILL, NOT FOR SURE. IT’S BETTER THAN NOTHING.

  Here comes another headache. But Yilt asked a question. Where to start.

  I point at a random light. Except nothing’s random anymore. It’s where Spin-Still wants us to go.

  So that’s where we’ll go.

  I’ve lost count of the Khua. I’ve lost count of the days since I left Sampati. I haven’t lost count of the hours of sleep I’ve had lately, because I can manage those on one hand. Preferably not the hand I hold the sempu in when I free the Khua, because that hand is mad at me. The pinpricks show up in nearly the same spots every time, again and again. Yilt’s healing treatments don’t stand a chance before we’re moving on to the next location.

  Because the thing with a spherical planet is, it’s always nighttime somewhere. We’re chasing moonlight and there’s no time for sleep.

  I get in the streamer and study the map briefly before tapping a location. We reached several Khua in the first wave, before many guards were in place. It’s trickier now, but we haven’t run into anyone yet. Yilt says they can’t guard them all. The keeper ranks are just sufficient for their normal duties, there are only a few dozen Aelo, and there aren’t actually that many Agnac on this planet.

  I’m too tired to hate the streamer anymore. Some rides are short, others long. This one’s on the short side, so I don’t get a chance to fall asleep.