This Gulf of Time and Stars

by Julie E. Czerneda

  But once outside the circle and out of sight?

  We needed no words at all.

  A stolen moment was all we could afford, as sweet as it was bitter. My hair lingered on Morgan’s shoulders, loath to return to mine; our thoughts parted with greater reluctance. Separate again, I drew my hands down his arms and over his torso, offering strength; I was no Healer, to make his wounds vanish. “I don’t remember this coat,” I whispered, to avoid saying anything about the ship.

  “I’d tucked it away. I thought for good.” My Human pressed cool lips to my forehead. “It’s from Karolus.”

  Explaining the aged suppleness of what might have been leather on the outside. I supposed, Karolus having been an unending war, it also explained why Morgan felt as though he was encased in metal. Finished with what I could do, I rested my hands on his chest. “We can’t stay here.”

  “No. Not with Bowman on the prowl,” he agreed. “We should get everyone somewhere safe—I’ll check with Terk to see if the Conciliator is in orbit. What is it?”

  I was already shaking my head. “Mother’s people aren’t like other Clan. Barac and the others had trouble holding them together long enough to ’port down here. They’re afraid. They’ve refused to use the M’hir most, maybe all of their lives.” I sighed. “The irony is they aren’t wrong. Emotion unsettles the M’hir; panic turns it deadly.”

  >Here . . . hereherehere<

  “Maybe we should listen to your great-grandmother.”

  He was amused. Morgan, I thought darkly, sometimes lacked reasonable caution. “We don’t know what’s down there.” Or what spoke, for that matter.

  “Let’s ask,” he told me, with that grimly cheerful note signifying he’d a plan.

  I followed him back to the others; a few were glad to see us, the rest gave me a worried look or hid their faces.

  Terk muttered under his breath when he saw us coming. In the shadows, the heavy-set constable was more machine than man, the dull gray of his suit stealing what light reached them, while Morgan, in pack and coat, might have stepped from an earlier age.

  >Here<

  Had the voice? Not for the first time I questioned whose it was. Naryn? Perhaps. I’d learned to distrust the obvious.

  “Whatever it is, Morgan,” Terk rumbled, “the answer’s no.”

  “He’s miffed Bowman’s given him guard duty,” Morgan assured me. “Terk, my friend. We’ve decided to move these people to a less exposed position. What’s on your scanners?” He pointed to the floor.

  “Our equipment cannot offer reliable indications below this level,” ’Whix volunteered. Soft down fluttered over his throat implant as he spoke, his beaked mouthparts unsuited to verbal communication. “It’s puzzling.”

  “Only to a featherhead.” Terk’s armor scraped the wall as he shifted to lean more comfortably. “That’d be why the chief picked this hole for her game. You’ll see. As for moving, we’re waiting on an all clear.” A grin. “Port Jellies are mopping up what we left for them. They’ll send an escort to take everyone home or wherever.”

  My relief faded when I saw Morgan’s face. “Call them,” my Human said. “Be sure.”

  Terk’s grin disappeared. “We can’t break com silence for—” Perhaps he saw what I did because he changed his mind and snapped, “’Whix, check what’s going on upstairs.”

  The other nodded and walked a few steps away, raising his scanner.

  Morgan’s head lifted, his eyes looking elsewhere for the briefest instant. Blood going cold, I turned to see Barac do the same.

  And my mother. The three with the Talent to taste change.

  The Tolian turned. “Partner Terk. I read approaching life-forms. Multiple.”

  “There. I told you. Should be the Jel—” Terk stopped, eyes dropping to his own wrist. “What the hells? It’s the chief. Coming first, and fast.”

  He activated his vis-shield, a weapon dropping to his hand and coming live with a throaty whine. ’Whix did the same. They positioned themselves facing where we’d first entered.

  “Move!” Morgan ordered, herding everyone back behind those with weapons.

  All at once, Terk wheeled on a booted heel, the arm with the scanner rising to point my way.

  A pox ran out from between their feet, straight at me, its fur flattened along its thin sides. Before I could dodge, it scurried past to where the others waited.

  “Catch it!”

  Huido’s snap caught a tuft of fur. Andi threw herself on the creature. It squirmed free and clawed partway up a pipe, pausing to pant and spit at us before disappearing behind it and beyond reach.

  Terk pounded by in hot pursuit. He staggered to a stop by the pipe, his arm swinging down, then over and up. “That—” the rest was impressively incoherent.

  Morgan leaned over, hands on his knees.

  Laughing.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  My Human pointed after the pox. “That—that—was Bowman.”

  Interlude

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN? How can it be? Fifty of her?”

  Gayle tossed the now-useless device aside. “Clever.” According to it, all fifty traces were not only Bowman, but moving, rapidly, in different directions. Ah, well. She hadn’t expected an easy chase.

  A hand picked up the scanner. Another poked at it. A third snapped fingers and grumbled. Soon the scanner was buried beneath aggravated body parts.

  The Assembler named Magpie Louli ignored her kin. “What do we do now? How do we find her? Find the Hoveny?”

  The creature tended to ramble under stress. Gayle amused herself by imagining how it would sound if she dropped it in a pot of hot acid. Still, they were allies.

  For now.

  “We’re close,” she pointed out. “You wanted the Clan, didn’t you?” An instant’s consultation of another, more ordinary scanner made her smile. “Even closer.”

  “Nice of them to come below.” Louli smiled and tapped her hat. “I’ve a surprise, I do. Kills best in confined spaces.”

  “We’re in those spaces,” Gayle reminded the Assembler.

  “That’s the trick. The secret. The best!” Louli tapped her hat again. “This was made for them, not you, not us. Not field tested, not yet.” Her smile widened, her semblance of teeth gleaming. “Soon!”

  “Don’t rush matters.” Gayle’s smile was cold. “Let Bowman think she’s eluded me. Two can set traps. She’ll try to save her friends. That’s when we end this.”

  And when the screaming would start.

  This job, she’d have done for free.

  Chapter 27

  “SHE MUST HAVE TAGGED every pox down here,” Terk announced. He’d gone from swearing at Bowman to admiration. “Don’t ask me how.”

  I looked at Morgan, reading the set of his mouth. “What is it?”

  “If she’s sprung her trap,” he said grimly, “we don’t want to be here.”

  >Here . . . HEREHERE<

  Something did. I looked a question.

  Morgan nodded and looked at the constable. “Well?”

  “You want assurances, I can’t give them,” the constable replied glumly. “Something here—” an oversized boot thumped the floor, sending up dust, “—is mucking the readout. All I can tell’s there’s more alive that way than this.” A nod to the dark. “And it’s coming.”

  “The hole we made from the transit level is in that direction.” They’d asked who knew the underground. To no surprise, it was Deni sud Kessa’at. “The tunnel we used from our building is one of several still open from the surface.”

  “This keeps getting better,” Terk complained.

  “But the hole is the only opening to this level,” Mirim said.

  “That you’ve found,” Morgan countered.

  Deni’s lips tightened. “I assure you if there were ano
ther access, we’d know. I mapped this area thoroughly.”

  Terk’s smile was without humor. “Then the hole’s where we’ll be. What about you? Sure about this lift?”

  I grimaced. “It’s worked once.”

  “And better than waiting here.”

  I agreed with my Chosen. This hollow empty space, with its shadowed curls and slanted walls, felt more like a trap with us inside than shelter. The constables kept looking longingly into the distance, eager to move. “Who’ll operate the controls?” I asked, doing my best to sound as calm as the others.

  Huido went to the panel, moving his spongy legs daintily to avoid the worst of the dust; Carasians disliked grit in their joints. He inserted a handling claw and the platform rose from the floor. “I will stand guard,” he rumbled.

  Ruti stormed up to the Carasian, her hands on her hips. “It’s not your fault your wives said those things. They were only telling us the truth.”

  A claw snapped, the bell tone one of deep distress. “What they said sent you and your baby into danger, Ruti. I bear—”

  “Bear it later, my brother. This isn’t the time,” Morgan said, coming over. “Barac, you and Deni go down first. Let us know if it’s safe.”

  The former scout nodded, though clearly unhappy to be parted from his Chosen. For her part, Ruti hadn’t taken her worried gaze from Huido.

  The lift sank below the floor, taking the two and a portlight with it. My heart hammered in my chest as we waited.

  Then, Clear below. Send everyone down.

  “The rest can go,” I said aloud, for those unable to hear Barac’s report. While Morgan and Mirim sorted out the order of who went next, I went over to Ruti, still standing before the larger alien.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She sent instead of speaking. He’s blaming himself for what his wives told us.

  Had Huido’s coming to help us meant—Are they in danger?

  No. Of course not. But I’m afraid this big idiot is looking to prove himself. I don’t like it.

  Neither did I. Let us deal with him.

  With a final look at Huido, Ruti turned away, her shoulders hunched. Jacqui came and led her back to the others.

  “I do not wish you gone,” Huido said, as miserably as I’d ever heard him sound. “I do not believe something terrible will happen if you stay.”

  “We know that.” Morgan frowned, coming close.

  I rested my hand on the Carasian’s great claw. Eyestalks bent to regard me. “Your wives could be right about us,” I said quietly. “About the Clan.”

  An unhappy rumble. “They think all the time.” As though that explained everything. “I never know what they’ll say next. Magnificent creatures. I asked if they could have warned you.” A clanking sigh. “They said time was a matter of philosophy and unreliable.”

  “We wouldn’t have listened,” I replied, falling silent. Not before tragedy opened our eyes. Not before we were reduced to grasping at myths to survive.

  “Time to head down,” Terk told us. “You’re the last.”

  Morgan turned to face the constable. “I hold you responsible for him.”

  Terk eyed the giant being. Multiple eyestalks regarded him back. “Fine,” the Human said. “But I’m not tipping next time we’re in the restaurant.”

  “You call what you leave a tip?” Huido complained.

  “Time,” Morgan hinted.

  “Mind you don’t cross Bowman’s plan,” Terk advised gruffly. “Move out, ’Whix.” Vis-shields activated, the two strode away into the dark, leaving a solitary portlight hovering beside Huido.

  The rest of the Clan were below; I reached, feeling their anxiety. Stepping on the platform, I told myself this was a good idea.

  I just didn’t believe it.

  About to join me, Morgan hesitated. His eyes went back to Huido. Go, I sent.

  With a nod, he strode over to the Carasian and reached up. Eyestalks parted, needle-tips emerging to take his hand in a gentle grip. They stood like that, unmoving, long enough for me to imagine sounds in the dark.

  The Carasian let go.

  Morgan jumped lightly on the platform, taking my hand.

  He didn’t look back.

  From beneath, the platform wasn’t hidden, resembling a large door in the ceiling. The control panel was, but Deni had found it. That was reassuring.

  That we stood in a narrow corridor, floored in hard-packed dirt, wasn’t. “Are we at the bottom?” I asked, picturing the ruin of Norval overhead.

  “Not necessarily.” The Clansman had been on his knees, holding a device over the dirt. He stood. “There could be any number of layers below us. All I can say is this one was once exposed to open air.”

  The air entering my lungs was reasonably fresh, if you liked musty. Not musty, I decided, ancient. Mirim and her group—and Jacqui—could hardly contain their excitement.

  Poor Ruti looked about to be sick.

  Deni sent his portlights a short distance in either direction, revealing a sharp bend in one, a stretch of sameness in the other, without an opening or door in sight. “Which way, Speaker?” he asked, recalling them so we might have stood in a long narrow room.

  >Here<

  I ignored the voice and gave him a hopefully confident smile. “Neither. We’re staying here till it’s safe to leave.”

  “But we’re so close!” Tle looked around for support. “We may never be back here again.”

  Not if I had anything to say about it, I thought, but kept that to myself.

  Almost. The corner of Morgan’s mouth quirked. “Make yourselves as comfortable as you can,” he suggested. “We may be here a while.”

  Having no water and only whatever Morgan had tucked in his pack for food, his “while” couldn’t be for long, but no one protested. The two Choosers, Tle and Jacqui, sat as far apart as the light allowed. Asdny, on the cusp of unChosen and so of intimate interest, wisely stayed with his brother and their parents. The rest settled in a tight group, by their furtive touches busily consulting one another.

  I let them. Better preoccupied than wondering if Terk and ’Whix had found allies or enemies—if Huido was bored or defending our retreat with all his might . . .

  I still taste it. Change. Something’s coming.

  “Not helping,” I murmured, leaning my shoulder into Morgan’s. I drew up my knees and rested my chin on top.

  My hair took advantage to explore the edge of his collar and slip across his cheek.

  Witchling. With heat.

  Now, that was helping, I thought smugly.

  “Daughter.”

  Mirim’s voice made me jump. I’d been paying too much attention to my Chosen, I thought guiltily. “Yes?”

  “Morgan,” Mirim acknowledged. “I wanted to—”

  “Stop!” Feet pounded down the corridor; Jacqui on the run. “Not like this. Stop!”

  My mother’s face changed. “We’re out of time.” She lunged before I knew what she intended, could believe what she intended.

  Mirim pushed aside my knees, driving her fist into my abdomen.

  Not her fist.

  >HEREHEREHEREHEREHERE!<

  The crystal.

  Interlude

  TWO ROPES HUNG within the round opening. Neither was in use. Assemblers clung to the edge of the cut, scrabbled down until they ran out of holds, then dropped, landing with a thud and bounce.

  Having retracted any features or digits first.

  Others tossed down weapons, until the rain of rotund bodies and lethal hardware littered the floor below. Nothing stayed where it landed more than an instant.

  The hunt was on.

  Not that another hunt hadn’t already begun.

  A distance away, Ambridge Gayle eased between a curve and wall, careful not to snag so much as a thread o
f her scan-proof garment. Magpie Louli did the same, if less gracefully, having been apprised of the penalty for exposure.

  Gayle raised a hand, then lowered it. Together, they sank behind the curve, holding still as two armored figures ran past. Only when certain the Enforcers were preoccupied with the new arrivals did she signal to move again.

  She could have dealt with the constables, but the delay would have been tiresome.

  The freshest tracks in the dust confirmed the initial scans. “This way,” she whispered.

  Then tracks proved unnecessary. A portlight hovered over an empty section of floor, the dust disturbed in a rectangular pattern. A lift.

  When the Assembler would have continued, Gayle stopped her. She crouched on her heels, looking away from the light, waiting.

  Something glistened. A reflection. Small and, yes, there were more, in a row about the height of an adult Human from the floor.

  A Carasian. Gayle smiled. Thought to hide, did he? To ambush the unsuspecting.

  A shame that was her specialty.

  Chapter 28

  THE CRYSTAL . . .

  So this is what it’s like.

  Around me were sounds, angry and alarmed. I lay on my side in the dirt, folded around my middle, and understood only the voice within. What are you?

  A promise. Something wry. Or a threat. It will depend.

  On what?

  My Chosen vied for my attention. I felt his hands, his frantic touch, as though they were distant, unimportant things. They were.

  He’s strong.

  So was—she, I realized. The life within me was no longer empty, but brimming with intelligence and . . .

  Power. I felt her explore our link, follow it through to my thoughts, going deeper and deeper. I could have stopped her.

  It didn’t occur to me.

  Whoever this was, whatever this was, I sensed no ill will or malice. As she learned me, I learned her. Great-grandmother, I acknowledged with a startling rush of connection.

  Not Naryn.

  This was she who had given birth to Taisal, mother of my father.