“Not the best time,” I replied. Morgan’s reflection appeared beside mine. How he’d hidden a blaster that size in his coat was a question for another time. I did find it a comfort, though unlikely of use. “Do you know who I am?”
/attention/trouble~anomaly~trouble/leave/
That’d be yes. “We’ll be leaving.”
/leave/determination/leave/determination/ It retreated and I breathed a sigh of relief. Leave we planned to do, just as soon as—
BANG!
Apparently it had retreated in order to have room to ram the window. A Vyna shrieked, likely for the first time in her life.
/leave/~!~leave/ BANG!
Morgan shouldered his blaster. “I’d say we’ve outstayed our welcome, chit.”
I agreed. I sent a call outward, knowing the minds I had to reach. WAKE! Waited until groggy minds turned to frightened, then determined ones.
We’re here, Sira, from Asdny. From others. Sparks of warmth in the dark. Where’s here?
It doesn’t matter, I assured them. Go home—take Noil with you. Your families are waiting.
Some with weapons they’d hoped to use, all no doubt furious I’d left them behind—especially Sona’s First Scout—but this had never been about fighting a battle.
It was about finding peace.
BANG! /leave~anomaly~leave/determination/
Don’t forget the part about getting clear ourselves, if we can’t resolve this, my Chosen reminded me.
Together we turned to face the Vyna.
The Adepts were in full flight, chairs speeding toward the door, servants running to catch up. The Vyna Council were on their feet, but stayed, either of sterner stuff or too afraid to move. No, I decided cheerfully, it was fear.
How is this possible? Tarerea Vyna demanded. The rumn—how have you made them speak?
Questions I couldn’t answer, so I didn’t try. What I could do was seize the opportunity like a true trader. We are the M’hiray. As you can sense, you can’t steal from us. We will no longer tolerate—
They’re gone! Fury shredded my shields, burst into my mind. What have you done!?
I recovered, pushed back. I saved them from you—
From us? Vyna is the final sanctuary, you fool. We were saving what little’s left. Tarerea Vyna covered her face with her hands.
Can you not hear the screams of the world?
Interlude
SAVE THOSE YOU CAN.
The order came with a locate and an urgency that numbed Barac even as he obeyed, gathering those he wanted with a quick summons.
What’s going on? Ruti hadn’t wanted to stay behind. Now she crowded close, Jacqui hovering behind. There were other groups forming. Other questions.
A figure formed in their midst, spun with a curse, then stopped, hands at his sides. Morgan.
Alone.
“The Oud have attacked the remaining Clans,” he told them, his voice unrecognizable, eyes blazing. “We’ll save those we can.”
Sira’s words, Barac thought, even as he nodded with the rest.
“Go.”
Barac formed the locate and pushed . . .
. . . finding himself in a long wooden building. The floor was tilted, tables and benches having slid to one end, and he braced himself against the nearest wall, seeing the other M’hiray do the same. Lamps—glows—illuminated shocked faces, haunted eyes. Om’ray.
And the glint of metal. An ax. A pot. “You can’t have our children!”
“We’re not Vyna,” the First Scout said quickly. “We’re here to save everyone.” The building moaned, a sound Barac sincerely hoped he never heard again. Dirt began pouring in, through the windows, through what had been doors. “Trust us or die here.”
“We can get you to Sona,” Destin urged.
They came forward, coughing, choking. Three held children. Another an armful of—coats? Barac didn’t care what they carried, he wanted to be out of here. “Take them.”
Tle nodded, put her hand on the nearest and disappeared. She was back for the next before Degal left with his, this time taking two.
Power she had.
Barac turned. “Where are the rest?”
Destin held out an empty hand. “Amna’s gone.”
The floor cracked beneath their feet. Barac lunged for the Sona Scout, concentrating with desperate speed even as the floor opened . . .
. . . and Oud burst through.
Chapter 58
THIS WAY.
Holding a child’s hand, I walked through a nightmare. This—this had been a grove, like Sona’s.
Until the Oud had sucked it dry, then plowed it under. What had been rastis lay shattered, so many sticks caught and tossed. The air was thick with dust and acrid, burning my lungs, and everywhere, hands or feet or the faint shine of hair—
Don’t be sad, Andi told me, her mind voice peaceful. They aren’t gone. I still hear them.
Try not to listen, little one, Aryl advised.
Advice I did my best to take. The M’hir was a cacophony of horror, the Watchers howling names, ghosts trying to reclaim them, the fading echoes of lives. How Andi could bear the sound was beyond my understanding.
How she remained untouched? I could only be grateful. I needed her Talent. Those left—
There are, she assured me. This way.
Had the ground been soft, we couldn’t have moved. As it was, we were forced to walk between mounds twice my height and horrifying in their regularity. How anyone could have survived—
Here.
She’d stopped, so I did, though I saw nothing. Where?
Here. Andi pulled free, dropping to her knees, and began to dig. She paused and looked up at me, her eyes somber. You’ll have to help. They’re a long way down.
Because, I realized with a lurch under my heart, the Oud had buried the Cloisters.
I’ll help. Picking up the child, I opened my awareness—
Then reached.
Hoping to find more than the dead.
Interlude
THE STENCH OF DEATH masked all other scents, but it was the silence Morgan noticed most. Not a whisper of air stirred the leaves or cooled his face. Whatever could fly had already left. What lived in the trees was hiding or gone. He gripped the railing with both hands, knuckles white, and wondered how long a forest took to die.
The water had gone first, stolen before dawn. The black muck left behind had squirmed with the desperate and dying for hours. Nothing moved now.
He supposed he should be comforted that the Tikitiks’ Makers hadn’t rained fire upon the planet. Yet.
Other, smaller, hands appeared, gripping the rail beside his, and the Human closed his eyes in relief. “You’re back.”
“Twenty from Tuana, thanks to Andi.” Sira’s voice had a ragged edge. Rage, that was, not exhaustion. He didn’t know if the Vyna had given her the locates for the remaining Clans or if she’d ripped them from their minds.
She’d sent him back first. Ripped, then.
“Barac brought nine from Amna,” he told her. “And some coats.”
Coats?!
His sense of Aryl faded after that outburst. “Is she all right?”
Sira sighed and leaned into him. “As right as anyone. The Vyna didn’t exaggerate. The Oud have devastated every Clan but theirs.”
“And Sona’s next.” The rastis had folded their fronds to preserve moisture; so doing only served to let the sun through to evaporate what water remained and bake the mud-coated corpses. He nudged her gently. “Look.”
A solitary esans stood at a distance, striped in sun and shadow, its rider sitting astride. Morgan couldn’t see who it was.
He didn’t need to. On impulse, he raised his hand.
As if in answer, the beast gave its shuddering shriek, then turned and walke
d away.
“Thought Traveler has the right idea,” he said after a moment. “This is no place to be, Sira.” They’d saved all they could of those willing to be saved, the Vyna confident in their sanctuary. A sanctuary too small and rumn-infested to offer hope to anyone who didn’t want to be a “servant.” “So, chit. Here we go again. Where do we ’port?”
Her pause had a little too much thinking in it for his comfort. Morgan turned, taking Sira’s hands in his. “You did hear me. We might as well leave sooner than later.”
She looked up, an unexpected gleam in her eyes. “It’s a starship.”
“You can’t be—” serious, but he didn’t finish. Of course she was, so he made himself think out loud. “A starship half buried in muck and dead swarm bits. A starship with no power source. A starship older than the Trade Pact. Need I go on?”
“You pushed the Fox through the M’hir.”
To save her life, at the cost of—taking that determined chin in his fingers, he tilted her face to look up. “This is bigger. And yes, in this case, that matters.”
She kept looking up, her nose wrinkled. “Came here, so it’s flown before.”
“Not necessarily. Could have been dropped from orbit like lifepods.” Morgan shook his head. “Sira, I’m the first to believe you can do the impossible, but we don’t even have a manual for the thing.”
She lowered her gaze to meet his. “Say that again.”
“We don’t know how it works—”
“That’s not what you said.” The gleam in her eyes had become a glow. “You said a manual. I know who—what to ask. The ship!”
He shouldn’t encourage her. Any delay—still. Morgan looked up. The petalled walls, the shaping. A beautiful design.
Once. “Lifepods aren’t intended to go back into space on their own.”
“The ship told me the Om’ray were supposed to go home. What if that’s the conclusion to the experiment—the finale to all of this? We just go home.”
“In this.”
“Why not this? It’s tech.” She glanced up again, making a face. “Okay, it’s big, but it’s still a machine. What we’ve seen of it so far works. Maybe all it needs is—us!” Her hair lifted in a cloud.
“Promise me—” what? To consult, to waste time, to—“I’m coming with you.”
That smile he loved, then the dying jungle disappeared . . .
Replaced by the Dream Chamber.
Chapter 59
BARAC REACHED ME FIRST, hands on my shoulders. “That was—” he shook his head, my cousin for once without words.
Destin nodded. “Agreed.” She looked around the room. “We’re here,” with a certain wonder.
Which was what mattered. I sent reassurance.
Easy to give, when you’d no idea what you were doing.
Is that so? Aryl felt as though she was making herself comfortable. I for one am in favor of seeing this thing fly. A much more civilized way to travel.
As if she had reason to fear another long ’port. I won’t risk you, Great-grandmother.
Unlike the others in your care, Sira, I’ve lived my life. Whatever happens, remember that.
Whatever happened was going to be now and in front of everyone, the Om’ray and M’hiray having gathered—as I should have realized—together in the chamber. All talking at once.
I stepped up on the nearest bed, getting my balance. No one noticed. I readied myself to reach to all of them. “We—”
The word filled the immense room, turning heads and silencing conversation.
Well now. Being Keeper had some advantages. “We don’t have much time before the Oud finish reshaping Sona,” I said bluntly. “We can’t stay here. I see two choices: Vyna’s one. They believe they’ll survive. Maybe they will, but I don’t trust them.”
Angry nods. Agreement.
“The other is to leave Cersi. Those of you who’ve just arrived—I ask you to accept that we can travel the same way, much farther. Where, is the question. It’s one we thought we’d resolved by coming here.”
“There’s no going back,” Tle said, her voice loud enough to be heard. She looked around at the others. “The Trade Pact’s too far for most of us. The passage we used to reach here leads to a trap—or solid rock.”
“It’s all been for nothing.” Degal sank on the nearest bed, head in his hands. I felt despondence spread; knew their anguish.
“It’s been for this.” I reached out, dropping my shields, letting them feel my love and determination. “We are the answer our ancestors wanted so desperately to find.” I pulled them into the M’hir with me, floating in that darkness . . .
. . . becoming light. Morgan’s, nearest and warmest. Flickers steadied as those new here found their courage. Glows marked those sure of their place. We saw one another and were glad . . .
. . . we couldn’t stay long. I felt the interest of Watchers, but they were not what sought. SONA!
>Keeper. What is your will?<
To go home.
Interlude
THE EARTH BECAME AN OCEAN and the great rastis and nekis, able to bend to the M’hir Wind, fell like twigs to float away and drown. Buttress roots snapped and clawed at air, spinning helplessly before being dragged under. What lived above ground tried to flee, only to be sucked down and smothered.
Worker Oud continued to dig, appendages smoothing rough walls. Others swept aside the unpleasant leavings of the surface, conveying those deeper, to where iglies waited to scavenge this bounty. These Oud were incapable of imagination; those who could dream rejoiced in a clean new Cersi. Best.
The reshaping Oud reached Sona’s Cloisters, moved along the metal-taste, opening space, conveying dirt. They weren’t to stop until they’d brought this splinter to the greater depths.
The ground vibrated.
Every Worker went still.
The vibration deepened.
Every Worker crouched, tucking its appendages safely inside flesh. It was necessary to pause and wait for the rumble to end before digging resumed. Until secured with beam or body, tunnels collapsed. The Oud were wise in the ways of the earth.
But the rumble grew stronger and louder. Tunnels did collapse, then the ground above them, then the surface fell away.
Safely crouched, thoroughly buried, the Worker Oud didn’t see the proud tapered starship shake free. Didn’t see it rise into the sky above Cersi and disappear.
A Tikitik did, with all four eyes.
It barked its laugh, before heading out to sea.
The Om’rays’ great experiment had concluded. The Makers received the notification signal, so long overdue, and sent out the required response.
Not “restart.”
“End.”
Those Cloisters still asleep answered. Those buried in the earth ignited, ending the lives of innumerable safe and oblivious Worker Oud along with the dreams of their brethren.
That of the Vyna summoned its Om’ray and prepared to take them home. Tarerea Vyna stood with her sisters, their shock turning to triumph. Their virtue was rewarded. The Pure had been Chosen!
Until arms made of darkness and stars took hold, and a voice like the M’hir itself said—
/ours/
Epilogue
“HOW FAST ARE WE GOING?”
Morgan cracked open an eyelid. “Fast.”
I poked him under the ribs. “Can’t you tell?”
“No more than you can tell me where we’re going.”
He had a point there.
The streaks of color that should be stars weren’t necessary to know we were moving. We could feel the great starship leap through space. Not through the M’hir, which had surprised us all.
But using the M’hir. The small rooms I’d thought prison cells were filled now with that darkness. We’d pulled it into place, the ship guiding
us, then stood back in wonder as the panels along the corridor had come to life, color streaming the walls between. Color that beat like a giant heart.
Hoveny tech. Our heritage. How strange and wonderful to have one. Our scientists could hardly sleep.
I was ready to sleep the entire way. That and eat. Holl was still exploring the storerooms below. The ship had been ready.
I propped my elbows on Morgan’s chest and peered into his face. “We’re going somewhere,” I assured him, kissing his nose. “That’s what matters.”
Morgan buried his fingers in my hair, cupping my head. “No.” He looked up at me, the blue of his remarkable eyes the most beautiful color of all. “It’s going there together.”
Our lips met, our hearts joined, and I gave my full agreement to what happened next.
My Human being right, as usual.
M’hiray and Their Associates,
on Cersi
M’HIRAY
Andi sud Prendolat, child, Birth Watcher, M’hir Denouncer
Arla di Licor, brother of Asdny, M’hir Denouncer
Asdny di Licor, brother of Arla, M’hir Denouncer
Barac di Bowart, Chosen of Ruti, former First Scout, cousin of Sira
Celyn sud Lorimar, Chosen of Kele
Cha sud Kessa’at, Chosen of Deni, M’hir Denouncer
Deni sud Kessa’at, Chosen of Cha, M’hir Denouncer
Ermu sud Friesnen, Chooser
Holl di Licor, Chosen of Leesems, mother of Arla and Asdny, M’hir Denouncer
Inva di Lorimar, Chosen of Bryk, Council Member
Jacqui di Mendolar, Chooser, Birth Watcher
Josa sud Prendolat, Chosen of Nik, father of Andi, M’hir Denouncer
Kele sud Lorimar, Chosen of Celyn
Leesems di Licor, Chosen of Holl, father of Arla and Asdny, M’hir Denouncer
Nik sud Prendolat, Chosen of Josa, mother of Andi, M’hir Denouncer
Oseden sud Parth, unChosen
This Gulf of Time and Stars Page 39