A Rumor of Angels

by Marjorie B. Kellogg

  Ra’an leaned forward impatiently. “James and…? What else?”

  Jude looked at Tekhon helplessly, forgetting that they did not share a language.

  “Rya?” Ra’an pursued harshly.

  Rya chose her words very cautiously, as if she were laying eggs in a basket. “James… when you told me he was mad, Judith, I did not imagine… he preaches his mission to the Diamo. They are hailing him as a savior.”

  “Mission? Savior?” Ra’an zeroed in where she had chosen to be vague.

  “He claims to be raising an army, to…” Rya faltered. “To drive the Terrans from Arkoi.”

  Ra’an grunted. “Fine idea, but it’ll never work. A Koi army wouldn’t stand a chance against the Terran military. This must be some subterfuge of his. He knows better than to send out an army of Koi.”

  Tekhon interjected a hard comment, and Rya implored. “How can we speak of such a thing?”

  Tekhon would not be put off. He turned to Jude and painstakingly, she deciphered his transmission. She sat numbly when they were done. “Wow,” she breathed. “Is that possible?”

  “What?” Ra’an demanded.

  Jude wrapped her arms around her chest. “It seems that what James has in mind is not expulsion but murder… every last Terran in Arkoi with one blow.”

  Ra’an scoffed. “How the hell does he plan to do that?”

  Jude could barely form the word. “Halm.”

  His dark face froze. He shot her a look of remembered guilt, having special knowledge of halm’s potential as a weapon. He rose from his cushion and moved off to sit alone in one of the upper reading areas.

  Jude turned to Rya. “What are you going to do to stop him?”

  Rya studied the fine grain on the table. “He can only be stopped if the population wills it.”

  “If? You mean he might find enough support to…?”

  “He has timed his coming well. I told you that superstition was in vogue, and the Diamo are right at the center of it. The population nurses a secret impatience with the Terran situation. To many, passive resistance is no longer the panacea it once was. They miss their friends in the colony. They are tired of waiting. They want it resolved.”

  “Is impatience sufficient motive for mass murder?” Jude thought her voice sounded shrill.

  Rya touched her hand lightly, an attempt at comfort where there was little she could offer. “Of course not, but who knows what other phantoms James Andreas will raise in our collective mind? He may rouse us until we no longer question his choice of weapon.” She nodded, considering the possibilities as she spoke of them. “Where Balance has been the norm, his Imbalance might infect unwary minds, might spread like a fever.” Her voice faded to a whisper, and she spoke of it to herself. “We must be on our guard.”

  Tekhon also, and the others, seemed lost in thought.

  “I can’t believe it,” Jude said loudly.

  Rya blinked and returned. “The message says he leads his followers toward Quaire’en. No doubt he plans to put the issue before the Council. A Terran has never brought a question to the Ring before, and the Council would be within its rights to refuse to hear him. But if his halm is as strong as the message suggests… yes, he may find support even among the Council members themselves.”

  “And?”

  Rya continued doggedly, “If he has enough support, the Council will be required to call a World Gathering to debate the issue. And if the Gathering decides in his favor…” Rya’s look was eloquent.

  Jude recognized this retreat into rational discussion for the defense that it was. “But this could actually happen? He could do it?”

  Rya’s long-fingered hands, so like her son’s, worked ineffectual circles on the tabletop. “It has been many hundreds of years, but yes, halm was once used to kill. The history is taught in school as a warning, in eyewitness accounts that have been passed down from teacher to teacher.” Her hands stilled. “So vivid. I remember I was so horrified after that lesson that I could not bring myself to use my halm for many days.” She stopped, cleared her throat. “Forgive me. I am not used to so much talking.”

  Jude hoped it was more than a tickle catching at the Koi woman’s throat. “Won’t the other Koi share this remembered horror?”

  “Many will, yes, but others will fear the Terran horror more.”

  “The Terran horror?”

  Rya answered softly. “This seems extreme to you, I know, but you have no memory of Arkoi as it was before the Terrans came. It is easy to remember it as much more glorious than it really was, and so hate the Terrans for taking that treasure away.” She stirred and took Jude’s hand again. “But, child, there is hope for you. The best defense against halm is halm itself. Your halm may save you, if it comes to that. You need only learn to control it.”

  “Hope for me?” Jude repeated dully. She had not thought far enough to personalize this insane threat. Suddenly Rya’s distress seemed superficial, disabled by premature resignation. “But there must be something that can be done! Don’t you want to stop Andreas?”

  Rya looked shocked. “Of course. If the Gathering is called, I will do my best to speak out against him.”

  “What about before that? Before the last minute?”

  “What would you suggest?”

  Jude flailed inwardly. The only deterrents she was familiar with were execution or the Wards. Don’t the Koi have jails? “I don’t know. Isn’t there some legal recourse? What do you do if someone does something harmful to your society?”

  Jude was sure that Rya flicked a glance in the direction of her son. “Harmful to whose society?”

  “Anyone. People. Lives. I was thrown in jail for a lot less than he’s advocating!”

  “If a majority of our population agree with James Andreas, it would be wrong to stop him, would it not?”

  “But…”

  “Judith, please. Be calm. Perhaps it is only the Diamo who have received this outrage favorably. They are extremists. The general population is not so volatile. They’re not likely to desert their fields and go running off after a Terran madman. I will contact Kirial tonight in Quaire’en. We will see what the reaction has been in the Ring.” She stood up, ending the discussion with a smile. “It would be helpful if you could bring the berry baskets to the kitchen when you have time.” She helped Gire’en to rise, then hurried off to organize the dinner.

  Jude climbed to where Ra’an sat staring at the floor and settled on a cushion beside him.

  For a long time, he didn’t move. His hands kneaded the edge of a pillow as if it were resisting his control. Finally he said, “Could that be what I am supposed to stop him from doing?”

  Jude tried to read through the mask of conflict on his face. “Why should a Koi who hates Terra try to stop a Terran from killing Terrans?”

  His laugh was more bitter than usual. “I am Koi, yes, by birth. But I am also the Terran that Daniel brought me up to be. Apparently James understands that better than I did. I had to come home to Ruvala to see it… not that I had any desire to learn such a lesson, to know for certain that I don’t fit in here any more than I did in the colony.”

  “Time, Ra’an, give it time.”

  “You keep saying that as if we had any, either of us. James will not leave me in peace now. You and your damn dreams.”

  Not my fault! Jude shrank into her cushion. “I didn’t know…”

  He made a dismissive gesture. “If you hadn’t come along, he would have found some other way. You couldn’t have known you’d fit right into some lunatic’s idea whose time had come. Only James knew that.”

  “Then you believe he can read the future?” Jude was too numb to muster true incredulity.

  Ra’an cocked his head in a qualified negative. His tone was remote, as if debating an interesting philosophical dilemma. “What is prescience, really? Predictions based on present knowledge. It’s taking an educated guess. James always, like his father, had an extraordinary brain, missed nothing, remembered everyt
hing. And so, when madness encouraged leaps of insight that a so-called sane mind would reject, James became a brilliant guesser and at some point or another began translating his guessing into action. He must have started planning when you arrived. He obviously knew another Terran with halm when he saw one. It was all falling into place for him.” Ra’an lay back against his cushion, hands behind his head. He stared up into the shadowed leaves.

  “And now, he’s betting that I cannot reject Daniel’s legacy forever; that, although I am Koi, I will not be able simply to stand aside and watch him butcher five million Terrans, no matter how much I may think I despise them. He is betting that because I loved Daniel, I will step in and try to stop him.”

  “Ra’an, it’s so inconceivable. The lives of millions resting on the blood feud of two men?”

  “No, to give James his due, avenging Daniel is probably a convenient by-product of his greater mission. I am sure he genuinely believes this is the only way to save Arkoi, and there’s no question that that is where his loyalties lie.”

  “But what could you do to stop him? Your mother didn’t seem to think there was anything that could be done, until the Gathering.”

  “Well, as the Koi see it, there isn’t anything. I would have to use Terran methods, running around the countryside like a politician, rallying support against him. Then, of course, there’s always assassination.” He lowered his head. “But I can’t do that. I cannot murder my brother.”

  “Yeah, well, your ‘brother’ may be about to murder you and me as well.”

  Ra’an’s perception of her danger seemed to have been delayed. He studied her seriously for a moment, then shook his head. “Clever, clever James. But I won’t take this bait, either. Don’t ask me to be drawn into this for your sake.”

  What?

  For a moment, she couldn’t breath. “No… ah. No.” She tried to pump resolution into her voice, to pretend that she would not have expected otherwise, but the easy coolness of his refusal was like a knife in the heart. “Rya says my halm will probably save me anyway, if I work to develop it. I think I should go to Quaire’en tomorrow.”

  His head moved slightly. “So soon?”

  She stood up, a bravado gesture. “Why not? Why not be where the danger is? I can work with Anaharimel and watch James Andreas bear down upon the city. It’ll be very exciting.” She could not help it. Accusation crept in at the end. “Besides, there’s nothing for me here, is there?” She stalked across the platform, then stopped and turned back. “I don’t blame you for rejecting the role James intends for you, but I hope you’ll be kinder to your mother now on the subject of complacency!”

  Stung, he raised himself from the cushion. “The Terrans are not my responsibility!” he growled.

  “Saving lives should be everyone’s responsibility!”

  He turned on his side. “Very noble. Tell that to a Terran.”

  “I am a Terran!” She stood very still, concentration directed inward, as if she had suddenly forgotten he was there. I am a Terran. Considering this, she walked slowly toward the staircase.

  Chapter 30

  Jude passed the night alone and unsleeping. Early in the morning, she heard someone come down the walkway toward her room, hesitate, then turn around and walk away. It took all her strength to keep from running after.

  Just before dawn, she fell asleep, and instantly the madman was with her, or she with him, on his progress through the greening foothills below the mountain retreat of the Diamo. There was a stone-and-thatch village by a rushing stream. A mill, lying deserted at noon, its front door open to the sun. A child toddled out of the crowds lining the cart track. Without breaking stride, he stopped and swung it to his thin shoulder. The crowd cooed and cheered. Caught as she was within the iron grip of the dream, she resisted, wishing for the halm power to call out to the admiring throng, He knows just what to do to win you, cant you see? He’s studied you so carefully and so long.

  But a voice in her dream answered, What does it matter, if I bring them what they want? See how they flock to me?

  Over his head, the shanevoralin, his familiars, wheeled and screamed in ecstasy.

  She woke. It was daylight. She roused herself and went downstairs to search out Rya. The dream had made up her mind.

  She found Rya in the underground lab, absorbed in her computer. Jude pulled over a stool, watched for a while, but finally could not wait.

  “Will you help me get to Quaire’en, Rya? To study with Anaharimel?”

  Rya looked up from her keyboard. It had no keys but a pattern of light trapped within a grid. “The dreams?”

  Jude nodded. “They won’t leave me… he won’t leave me alone.”

  “The halm school is protected. Halm cannot get in or out. In that silence, Ana can teach you the proper barriers. When do you want to go?”

  “As soon as possible. Today?”

  Rya’s hands played across the grid, stopped, started, then pulled away. She set the computer to run the program and sat back in her chair. “So that’s it.” She reached into a drawer and pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle. “When he left this morning, Ra’an asked me to give this to you.”

  “Left?” Jude tried not to sound too surprised.

  “He said he was going into the upper forests for a week or so. To get reacquainted, he said. You did not discuss this?”

  “He wants to be alone, is more like it,” Jude replied. She cradled the packet in her lap but did not open it.

  “I had thought perhaps that there was more between you than that,” Rya ventured with some delicacy.

  Jude shrugged more casually than she felt. “His original homecoming plan did not include bringing a Terran along—I just sort of happened. He’ll have an easier time learning to live as a Koi again without me around to remind him of his life in the colony.”

  Rya’s dark eyebrows arched slightly, then settled into resignation. “I hoped that the shanē were wrong about my son. I want to believe that he wishes to regain his halm and live as a Koi. But if that were so, he would go to Quaire’en with you.”

  “He can’t go to Quaire’en!” Jude blurted.

  “Of course he can.” Rya frowned as if discussing a recalcitrant child.

  How could you understand? Do I even understand? Jude only nodded, accepting. He must not come to Quaire’en!

  “I can arrange for an evening huruss. That will get to Quaire’en at midday tomorrow. I will let Anaharimel know to expect you. Take Theis if you like. She has been to Quaire’en and you will be in need of company.”

  “Thank you. You’ve been so kind, Rya.” She said it flatly, but Rya leaned forward and took both her hands in her own, favoring her with a long searching look that offered no admonitions or advice, merely support. Impulsively, Jude leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  Rya smiled. “We’ll hope to be hearing from you soon on the halmweb.”

  Jude stood, clutching her bundle. “Did you speak to Kirial last night?”

  Rya’s smile flattened. “Yes. The news was ill. Already Quaire’en is a divided city, even before the madman’s arrival. Some fear him, others await his coming. The Council is deciding whether to hear his case.”

  “In my dream, the people followed him wherever he went, as if he could touch each individual and know what promise will bind them to him.”

  “Halm can have that power,” said Rya. “But some will still refuse to pay the price he requires. We must put our faith in that.”

  “Umm.” Jude had little faith left. Out of the frying pan… At least in the colony, there was no one trying to kill me. “Well, I’ll be in Quaire’en when Andreas arrives. That should be interesting.”

  She left Rya with her computer and climbed back up to her room. She laid the bundle on the bed and unfolded it. Inside was the leather-cased flask and a note: “Work hard on your halm, and when you see James, give him this and tell him I refuse his challenge. Would you have me ask of you, stay here and die for my sake?”

  It
was not signed. What makes him so sure I will get anywhere near James Andreas? Jude picked up the flask, traced the tooled initials. She had vowed not to be sentimental, but could not help wondering if she would ever see Ra’an again. Anger rose up in her against the man whose initials now blurred before her eyes. How different would things be if Daniel Andreas had not been so obdurate as to walk off into the mountains alone?

  Brusquely, she rewrapped flask and note and tossed them into the bottom of her knapsack. She took her cameras down from a shelf, stared at them for a while, then bundled them up in a shirt. That package she would leave for Ra’an. She would keep her part of their original bargain.

  As she went downstairs to find work until the evening, she vowed she would have a great deal to say to James Andreas when she saw him again.

  Chapter 31

  In the early dawn the whitewashed walls of the Quarter were damp and cool. Verde eased himself through an anonymous doorway and stood listening. It was several hours too early for the few brave tourist shoppers or the roving gangs of looters still prowling the city. Verde pulled a shapeless cap low over his forehead. His old shirt and pants, an obvious mark of identity, had been discarded for the dull-orange regulation tunic. He had never tried passing for Koi before and hoped that many years of close observation would serve in lieu of practice.

  From the shadow of the doorway, Ron Jeffries called to him in hushed tones. “Four hours, Mitch. Then we send out the dogs. Should be me going out there. I used to get paid to sneak around.”

  Verde smiled tightly. “Told you you should have learned the language. You stay put whether I come back or not.”

  “I should have tied you up down there. What’re you going to learn out here that the Koi can’t tell us?”

  Verde returned a heedless wave and started down the narrow street, reining his usual hurried gait to the sedate pace more suited to an elderly Koi out walking in the early light.

  He crisscrossed the Quarter for an hour, meeting no one, not even Koi, though he expected they would be stirring soon. Nearing his office, he spotted two members of the colonial police, not among those normally assigned to the Quarter, lounging against the outside wall of Montserrat’s. The cafe’s mullioned front window had been smashed again, and bits of broken chairs were strewn about on the pavement. The door to his office lay invitingly open, but he could see scatterings of paper breaking up the darkness of the floor inside, and he was willing to bet that a mere molecule sent across the threshold would set off alarms in every guardhouse in the colony, not to mention the one at Clennan’s bedside.