“I suppose that’s understandable.” She sat beside him, and the door closed behind her. The interior light dimmed.
“What is it?” Noah said, as the car made its way back toward the palace, without visible headlights.
“Aren’t you glad to see me? It’s been too long.”
“Of course. It’s just that there’s a lot going on here. I was about to leave for Yaree, but something important came up and I’ve been forced to change my plans. EcoStation is orbiting that planet, so I wanted to check on it. The unaligned Yareens are potential military allies, too.”
“Sure, EcoStation. I worked for you on the orbiter, remember? But how did it get to Yaree?”
“It’s one of the things I want to investigate. I still hope to go, but later. Until I can get there, I’m sending a recon team of Tulyans, diplomats, and military officers.”
“What made you change your plans?”
“You remember Acey and Dux?”
“Sure.”
Noah went on to tell her where the teenagers had gone, and how the robot Kekur had sent a distress call that they were under HibAdu attack in the back country. “We’re organizing a rescue-and-attack squadron right now,” he said. “I’m going with it.”
“But you have so many other responsibilities. Surely you can delegate that one.”
“HibAdus are a priority. Besides, those boys may not always be near, but they’re Guardians through and through. I’ve always seen them as future leaders, after they finish sowing their wild oats. And as for you, Tesh, I’m always glad to see you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were a … special case.”
“You make me sound like a fugitive from a nut house.”
“In this war, aren’t we all?”
“I suppose. Look, I don’t need much of your time. I have to get back to my own duties, piloting Anton’s flagship.”
“Pull over there,” Noah said to the driver, reaching forward and pointing so that the man could see what he wanted.
Noah and Tesh got out in a shadowy garden area, where pathways and a pond were illuminated in moonlight.
“Here,” Noah said, handing a pair of night-vision glasses to her. “I don’t think you’ll need these with the natural lighting, but just in case.”
“Thanks.” She tucked them into a pocket of her jacket, as he did with his own pair. “It’s kind of heavenly out here tonight, and maybe that’s a sign.”
“A sign?” he said.
“Just the observation of a hopelessly romantic female.”
“You’re anything but hopelessly romantic.” Noah leaned down and kissed her affectionately on the lips, then grasped her hand and led her toward the pond. His grip was warm and strong, and she felt his steady pulse against her magnified skin.
“Since we don’t have much time, I’m going to be very direct,” Tesh said.
“Normally we men prefer that, but coming from you, I’m not so certain I want to hear it. I’ve never been able to figure you out, or what we mean to each other.”
“Odd that you’d say that, because I’ve been stewing over the same thing. There hasn’t been enough time for us, has there?”
“No.” He kissed her again, longer this time, before they continued on the walkway. The moon reflected on the pond, an image broken by a wooden boardwalk that led to a small island at the center.
As they walked along the creaking boardwalk, Tesh said, “From the beginning, I knew something about you, too. Or should I say, about us. Sparks were always there between us, a physical passion that neither of us could deny. As a Parvii, I’ve lived a lot longer than you, and I’ve had more … relationships, as your Human women like to call them. From the beginning, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Noah. I’m sorry to be so direct, but the war forces my words, compresses our lives.”
“That’s all right.” He led her to a bench on the island, and they sat down, still holding hands, to gaze out on the reflections of the pond.
“We had our one time together. You thought it was only a dream since you were with me through Timeweb, but it actually happened.”
“Two months ago, right?”
“Sixty-eight days,” she said, with a hard stare at him.
During all that time, until just a few days ago, Tesh had been carrying his seed within her, until she finally made her decision about what to do. Now she felt their child growing inside, and she wondered how to tell him, what to say. She needed to choose her words carefully. This was no ordinary man, and she could not predict how he would respond if he knew.
Unsure if she should tell him at all, and especially now, she hesitated. Noah was a busy, important figure now.
“As complicated as our lives have been,” she said, “neither of us have had time to explore the real potential of our relationship.”
“I have to admit, I’ve always found you intriguing,” he said. Looking at her intently, he said, “This is going to sound like a line, but whenever I look into your pretty green eyes, I see a universe of stars and planets, a universe of possibilities. I see the past and the future in you. You are one woman, and you are all women who have ever lived. I love the depths of you.”
“That was quite a mouthful. You can see the color of my eyes, even in this light?”
“Do you think I would forget what you look like?”
She kissed him, and asked, “Did you just tell me that you love me, or that you love all women in general? Do you only love the ‘depths of me,’ or do you love all of me?”
“That’s a complex question.” He grinned as he considered how to reply.
While she held his left hand, her fingers wandered inside his sleeve, and she felt rough skin on his wrist and forearm. Odd. It must be the scars of an injury he hadn’t told her about yet. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, she quickly withdrew.
Just then, they heard voices, and on the far side of the pond—away from the palace—Tesh saw dark figures in the moonlight. Five Human shapes, moving furtively through the garden.
Noah put on his night-vision glasses, and so did she.
“It’s … “ Tesh hesitated. “One of them looks like Princess Meghina. Is she here?”
“Yes. She’s led an interesting life.”
“Look,” Tesh said. “They’re moving strangely, going in a circle. What are they doing?”
“I don’t know.”
Rising to his feet, Noah went back on the boardwalk the way they had come, moving slowly and keeping to the side, where the boards squeaked less.
Following him, Tesh did the same. So far, she had not gotten to say what she’d intended, and now she might not get the opportunity. As they left the magical, moonlit island, it seemed to her that a spell had been broken. She sighed. Maybe it was for the best. For his own safety, Noah needed to keep his full attention on his important duties. That was the case with her, too, and she wondered if she should have waited longer before commencing her pregnancy.
What’s done is for the best, she thought. If I had waited, it might never have happened. And it needed to happen. Tesh was sure of it.
She followed him to a stand of high shrubbery, and they peered through an opening in it.…
* * * * *
Princess Meghina had been feeling peculiar, and almost giddy. For her, always conscious of her duties and of making the proper impression on others, this was most unusual. But around the other immortals, especially now that Kobi Akar was gone, she’d been feeling more comfortable. After jumping off the cliff, her companions had all healed at varying rates, and they were fine now. Meghina still didn’t think she would ever make that leap.
She wanted to maintain her dignity, but she also wanted to be part of this special group, a group that was elite in its own, ineffable way. Not that living forever was a sign of status, or of some bonus that the gods had given to them. At least she didn’t see it that way. Sometimes, she almost felt it was a curse, a burden that she and the others had to bear. The Salducian diplomat had failed in his respon
sibilities, and now he was paying the price for it. He would spend a long time incarcerated, a long time being miserable. Of course, they couldn’t give him a life sentence, because that would never end, and he had not committed a crime that warranted the death sentence. He was a unique prisoner. No doubt about it.
Now she held hands with Betha Neider on one side and Paltrow on the other, and all of them were linked in a circle with Llew Jarro and Dougal Netzer, circling in the moonlight, circling, circling.
On one level, the one that was most obvious to her, this all seemed silly, and almost a cliché. But they weren’t dancing in the moonlight, not exactly. It was more an improvised thing for them to do together in this private place where they could let off some of the pressures and behave in an impulsive, childlike manner. But this wasn’t childlike, she quickly realized. As they moved around and around, it occurred to her that they were doing something very important.
Stupid thoughts. On a superficial level, Meghina felt silly. But deeper, where it really mattered much more, she felt quite different. This was their shared destiny.
Our destiny to spin in circles? One side of her asked a question of the other. And the other side did not answer. It just kept compelling her to go around and around in the garden.
* * * * *
Looking on, Tesh and Noah heard the scuffing and stepping of feet as Meghina and her companions continued their strange amusement. To Tesh, it looked like some sort of weird religious ritual, and she wondered if they would strip off their clothes next and paint themselves blue, as the ancients of Lost Earth used to do. With her military glasses, she saw the garden in full color, and the dark clothing of the circling people.
“Do you think they’re drunk?” she whispered. Then, from the direction of the zoo, she heard an animal roar.
“They’re drunk on something,” he whispered back. “Can’t say what, though.”
“Shall we join them?”
“I … “ When Noah hesitated, she noticed a peculiar expression on his face as he watched Meghina and the others. One of longing, she thought, and fascination. Then he said, “I’ll go, but you stay here.”
“Why? They aren’t dangerous.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go, either.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I … I feel like they’re tugging at me, wanting me to be with them. But I feel something else, too, telling me not to. I … Uh, on second thought, I think we should both stay here.”
“That was a confusing answer.”
He smiled stiffly.
Tesh felt her own conflicting sensations. Noah always had good instincts. It was one of the things that made her comfortable being around him. He seemed like a protective force to her. But now she wondered why he was behaving this way.
Princess Meghina glanced in their direction, as if she had heard something. Tesh froze, seeing the eerie glint of moonlight in the searching, questing eyes. A chill ran down her back, as she felt a rush of fear. But the Princess soon looked away, and never stopped circling with the others. Faster and faster they whirled in a bizarre dance. And, as if in concert with them, animals in the zoo roared, chattered, and called out in high, agitated pitches.
At that moment, a faint green mist encompassed the five people, a mist that thickened and grew more green as moments passed, until Tesh could no longer see the dancers. The sounds diminished, and finally faded away entirely.
Presently the mist cleared, and the people were gone. Tesh saw only a moonlit garden, as if the whole scene had been an apparition.
Moving with caution, Noah led the way around the shrubbery, to the place where they had seen the strange activity.
On the ground, they found five heaps of clothing arranged in a circle. It looked like a magic trick. But as Tesh lifted the heap that had been Princess Meghina’s black gown, she gasped.
Tesh saw a moonlit hole in the ground, with something jammed down into it, out of reach. Thinking Meghina was trapped in the hole, Noah used a comlink to call for help.
While waiting, he and Tesh dug desperately with their hands, widening the opening. Finally Noah touched whatever was in there, but it only crumbled. Within minutes, uniformed soldiers burst onto the scene, and they began digging with autoshovels.
Beneath each pile of clothing, they found a hole. And inside every hole, only the husks of four Humans and one Mutati—like exoskeletons—with nothing inside.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Each sentient creature has a mental list of things to worry about. The lists are of varying lengths and of varying significance. It has been observed, though, that the thing that gets you will not even be on your list.
—Anne Jules, child philosopher of Lost Earth
Several times during the night, Dux had awakened and worried about the brave Mutati outside. Now, as he stirred yet again and opened his eyes, he wondered if he should go out and check on her. That might disturb everyone, though. He recalled that his grandmother was a light sleeper, and cantankerous if she didn’t get her rest.
Dux and his cousin slept on thin pads that Grandma Zelk had laid out for them on the floor of the small cabin. In the shadows only a couple of meters away, he saw the robot sitting by the dying embers of the fireplace. Kekur was a peculiar sentient machine, but he did seem dedicated to his duties. One of the yellow lights around his face plate pulsed slowly. Undoubtedly, he was monitoring his surroundings, standing sentry over the boys.
Once more, Dux drifted off to an uneasy sleep.…
In the morning, when he heard the old lady clunking around in the kitchen, Dux dressed hurriedly and went outside. A chill wind stabbed into his bones, and he closed his jacket.
Just ahead, he saw Parais perched on a low cedar bough that drooped under her weight, almost all the way to the ground. He hurried to her side. Behind him, he heard his grandmother calling his name, but he ignored her for the moment.
The Mutati opened one large eye, and Dux was shocked to see that it was a sickly shade of yellow, with purple veins through it. Her posture was bad and she leaned, as if about to tumble off the branch.
“Parais,” he said. “Are you all right?”
“Took on too much mass,” she said. “Must expel it, but I’m so tired. My avicular chemistry has been warring with the increased organic material that I absorbed.” Her voice grew increasingly faint as she continued. “Just before dawn, I tried … tried to shed my body of the excess, but only stirred up my insides more, making me feel worse. I’ll try again later.”
“Are you sure you should do that?”
“Maybe. There are methods I’ve learned from other aeromutatis.” She looked up into the gray, foggy sky. “Perhaps the sun will come out, and give me new energy.”
Turning toward the cabin, he saw the old woman on the porch, with her hands on her hips. She did not look pleased, but at the moment he didn’t care about that.
He ran to her and said, “Grandmamá, we must help the Mutati. She saved our lives and risked her own. Can you give her a folk medicine?”
The wrinkled woman scowled. “You say she’s a good Mutati, eh? Maybe she’s fooled you, and the minute she’s stronger she’ll kill us all.”
Acey was in the cabin doorway now, with the robot behind him. “Parais wouldn’t do that,” Acey said. “She could have killed us many times before. We all trust her.”
“The Mutati needs help,” Kekur said.
The prior evening, Dux had told the robot not to speak without permission, so this gave him a moment’s pause. He decided not to scold him, however. Maybe Kekur’s internal programming had determined that it was a military priority to revive the Mutati.
“My healing powder might work on her,” Grandma Zelk said, touching the pouch at her waist, “but I hate to waste it. With all of the sickness in the ground around here, I’ve been sprinkling it on problem areas, trying to heal Zehbu.”
“Living planet organism to the Barani tribe of Siriki,” Kekur said. “Zehbu is linked to larger ga
lactic-god entity Buko. A variation on the Tulyan deity Ubuqqo, one of many versions of the ultimate divinity. All unsubstantiated folk tales.”
“Don’t make me come after you with a stick,” the old woman said to the robot.
The yellow lights blinked around Kekur’s faceplate, but he had the good sense not to respond.
“Sadly, my supply of healing powder is diminishing,” Grandma Zelk said. “My powder came from my ancestors before me, who got it from Zehbu, along with the obligation to use it properly. Just a grain or two a decade was all Siriki needed in the past to remain healthy, but the required amount has increased dramatically.”
“Don’t waste your … healing powder on me,” Parais said, barely getting the words out. “Use it for a larger purpose.”
“The shapeshifter makes sense,” the old woman said, patting her small bag. “Look, boys, have you ever seen my pouch so flat? This is all I have left. Zehbu has been too sick to produce any more of it, and I’m afraid the downward cycle is irreversible.”
As if punctuating her comments, Dux felt the ground tremble underfoot.
“No place is safe anymore,” she said. Her face darkened, and gripping the pouch tightly, she turned and strode up a rocky slope. The boys and the robot followed, as did the robot. She kept up her legendary brisk pace, and as they climbed Dux was surprised that he didn’t hear a flow of water coming from up there, where the mountain stream ran down into the valley.
They reached a rock promontory where they could look down on the stream. Though it was late spring in the Sirikan back country and the water had always flowed swiftly in the past, it was nothing like that now, only a weak, trickling rivulet.
Bowing her head, the old woman said, “This water is one of the arteries of the living planet-god. You see how it is.”
“Yes,” Dux said. Somehow, the old superstitions and legends about Zehbu and the larger galactic entity Buko had always seemed true to him. The concepts seemed linked to the galactic ecology theories espoused by Noah Watanabe.
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