A Rumor of Angels

by Marjorie B. Kellogg

  “Unless we drop ours first,” suggested Clennan bluntly. “At least Ramos is a certain threat, and an immediate one.”

  “What does Lute say?” Damon asked.

  “Lute says we must assume that James has made it through,” Verde replied. “If we really think we can destroy the corridor, then of course he will let the Wall go. The voices of the Koi in the colony will be needed to speak against James and his fanatics.”

  Clennan drained his soup and set the mug down thoughtfully. “If the Wall prevents halm exchange between here and there, could the Wall keep Andreas out? I mean, protect the colony from him?”

  “Several months ago, maybe. Now, no, not with all this Terran interference and the loss of those who left with James. The halm force he plans to amass would cut through it like butter. He knew that when he conceived this insanity.”

  There was a silence, then Jeffries slouched over and pulled up a crate beside Clennan. “So. When do we do it?”

  Clennan laughed softly. There was an eager unbelieving edge to his laugh. “You know, the one thing you guys haven’t asked me is why.”

  “Why what?” Jeffries demanded.

  “Why I’m here, doing this with you.”

  The three exchanged glances. “We knew why, Clennan,” Jeffries explained, “we just needed to know if.”

  “We all know why, Bill,” said Damon gently. “It just took you a little longer than the rest of us to come around.”

  “So I ask again,” Jeffries repeated. “When do we do it?”

  Clennan took a deep breath. “Day after tomorrow is the soonest I can figure. Sometime in the early morning, when the corridor’s closed down for the twenty-four-hour maintenance check.” He turned to Jeffries. “You’re demolition?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Right, then. What kind, how much, and how many men?”

  Chapter 40

  In the streets of Quaire’en, he was called the Destroyer, but the name was not spoken aloud.

  The halm school waited in vain that day for Anaharimel’s call to class. In the morning, Jude paced along the colonnade facing the city. The pilgrim encampment spread down the beach in a cloak of rippling color. Now that it was no longer empty, Jude could look on the beach calmly. The visions that Andreas had fed her dreams with stopped at the beach. Only one prophecy was still to be accounted for, and thus far, there was no sign that Ra’an would appear from Ruvala’s hills to play the role he claimed Andreas had laid out for him.

  And what does he intend for me?

  Theis returned in the afternoon brimming with vivid images: Andreas preaching at the water’s edge, backing into the waves as his passion took hold of him; the gathering throng, rapt in his spell; the shanevoralin flocking to the incandescent power of his halm so that the city children raced down to the beach to see the sky fill with wings.

  In the evening, before dinner, Anaharimel called the students to her at last. Jude was the first to arrive in the wind-tossed scrub grove at the peak of the island, Theis at her heels. Anaharimel sat erect in a shifting pool of sunlight, beneath a twisted pine. The students gathered but did not cluster closely around their teacher as was their habit, held now at a distance by the unaccustomed stiffness in her carriage.

  —This is the news, my children. The Destroyer has arrived in our city. This morning he called to the Council and so great was his power that they could not deny him. The Council left the Ring and came themselves down to the beach to hear his case.

  Jude shifted her weight but her feet were not asleep. The prickling in her limbs was fear.

  Anaharimel spread both hands, an eloquent gesture from one who rarely allowed her body to speak when her mind could do it for her.

  —The Council will decide if the Destroyer’s case is valid enough for a Gathering to be called. It is my opinion that they will decide in favor, and that the Destroyer will demand that the Gathering be immediate. Therefore, my students, you must consider your choices. They are three: to lend your young halm strength, untested as it is, to the Destroyer’s cause, or to speak out against him in the Gathering, or, lastly, to remain neutral.

  James Andreas will not suffer neutrality willingly, Jude warned impulsively.

  Anaharimel’s halm voice grew stern.

  —We will not debate the issue here. We must go from this grove prepared to make the personal choice that each will carry into the Gathering. Think over it carefully, my students. Consider every subtlety and ramification.

  How can they? mourned Jude privately. They’re only children…

  —Those who choose neutrality had best remain here at the school, within the safety of the halm barrier. That is all. Choose well, that the Balance may be restored.

  The class sat quietly for a moment, as the wind rattled the pines, then they rose to trickle off singly and in groups. Jude remained seated on her hump of dry grass. The teacher’s pale eyes turned toward her.

  —You are not satisfied, child.

  Do you support the Destroyer, Ana?

  Shock.

  —I, child? Never!

  Then why did you say nothing against him? Your students would listen if you said that what Andreas cries out for is wrong.

  —We do not need borrowed convictions. We need understanding, so that the choice is a true and Balanced one for each person who makes it.

  But isn’t that cowardice? Shouldn’t one speak aloud for one’s beliefs?

  —As James Andreas does?

  Jude sat back, stunned. Was that the real choice, after all? Between a morality shaped by majority rule, and one determined by whoever shouts the loudest? Is there no finer, purer alternative? She remembered her debate with Ra’an across the mountain campfire. Does justice exist? Is it attainable?

  Anaharimel offered no more. The late light tinted her with amber, as if she were carved from white marble. Jude thought she looked very ancient and proud, and sat in silence with her until the sun dipped into the water, hoping to absorb some of her teacher’s calm.

  If I hide on this island, I might be safe. He might never know I am here. Is there reason to do otherwise? Terra gave me nothing but pain… why should I risk myself in return?

  Why?

  And what of Ra’an? Will he need me if he should come?

  Ah, the white beach.

  Will he come?

  Chapter 41

  Back in his quarters in the Intelligence Complex, Bill Clennan shaved and changed his clothes hurriedly. He must make an effort to appear as awake as he felt inside, for if Ramos suspected he had been up all night, he’d want to read the reports from the interrogations that could be the only proper cause of a lack of sleep. Even the old reputation for late-night partying couldn’t serve as a cover this time, with every bar in the city shut down. He glanced around the room, finally admitting to himself how much he despised its demented blandness. He threw his dirty clothes on the floor in a gesture of defiance and ignored the light switch as he left.

  He took the elevator down to his office. He had fiddled the duty roster the day before, so that the technician scheduled into the interrogation booth was one whose loyalty he could count on. Another of his men would relieve him in the lead seat when the time came.

  After a jovial tour through the Interrogation Wing, joking with the men, giving obscene excuses for his lateness, making his presence felt, Clennan checked in at the booth and began going through the motions of a day’s routine questioning. An hour later, his replacement arrived and took over quietly. Clennan slipped back to his office, where the boyish technician, a creative programmer, awaited him. After the boy’s experience with Ramos, Clennan had no trouble converting him to the cause. Together, they began to arrange for some sudden and unorthodox appropriations, whose source and destination would remain conveniently foxed up in the computer’s circuitry for several days at least.

  If they remained on schedule, that would be more than enough time. Later, Clennan returned to Interrogation to go through the day’s reports
and to pay a visit to the prisoners in the holding tank.

  All the while, Clennan worked with a concentration that defied his lack of sleep and astounded those of his men who knew him well. The snappishness and haunted look of the past few weeks had vanished. The old good-timer manner was back, enlivened with an almost tangible electricity of purpose. His men fed on his energy and worked the harder for it.

  Clennan felt like a runner getting his second wind. He had made mistakes, or he had blamed himself when circumstances had conspired against him. His self-esteem had bottomed out, but now he understood why, and he felt good again, potent. If Ramos caught up with him now, there would be no explaining away his machinations of the past twenty-four hours, not this time. But the risks were worth the runner’s heady exhilaration, and so Bill Clennan ran, with eyes only for the road ahead.

  Chapter 42

  Twisting in her sheets, Jude cried aloud.

  She is in the restaurant with the checkered floor. The young madman with the sane gray eyes sits across the table, smiling as if she alone could understand his pleading.

  Where is my brother? He asks it so sadly that she aches to give him the answer he requires.

  But no! I mustn’t!

  My brother, where is he?

  No! I do not know!

  The madman bows his head until his pale hair brushes the tabletop.

  Help me, he pleads. Only you can help me…

  Theis rose from her station by the open door and went over to nuzzle her friend awake. The twin moons hung over the dark water and the beach glittered with a galaxy of cookfires. Jude dressed and went out with the gria to lose her dream in the island’s quiet night.

  —You are a fine student, Judith.

  Thank you, Ana.

  —Had you been raised Koi, you might have been a teacher.

  (Image of embarrassment)

  —I’ve no need to flatter, child. I say this that you will appreciate your gift and use it wisely.

  Yes, Ana. But the dreams… I thought I was safe from them, but he pursues me even here.

  —The Destroyer?

  Yes.

  —You know that the Council has agreed to call a Gathering?

  Yes.

  —And still you ask leave to go see him, though it would expose your presence to him for sure?

  I know him, Ana, from the… (Image of the colony) Perhaps if I could talk to him before the Gathering…

  —He’s deep in his madness, child. You will never dissuade him. But I understand that you must try, for your own sake, though it puts you in danger. But consider this: I judge that you are skilled enough to take part in the Gathering. Though the school barriers could not hide you, you can surely be hidden in the halmweb. This will save your life if the decision goes against the Terrans, but only if your heart does not betray you when the moment comes to strike. To remain safely hidden, you must lend your halm to whichever way the decision goes.

  I understand, Ana. Perhaps the Destroyer will convince me, and J will not need to be hidden any longer.

  —Perhaps. But hear me, do not try to halmspeak him, whatever the temptation, lest he draw you into his madness with him. Such is the power of a madman’s halm. He may convert you against your will. When you make your decision, make it with Balance as your guide.

  I will not halmspeak him, Ana.

  —Or allow him to halmspeak you. I assure you he will try.

  I will use the barriers as you have taught me.

  —Dear child, do you not fear this encounter?

  It is not Andreas that I fear, but what he would have us do. I fear the decision of the Gathering. Andreas alone will not harm me, not yet. Besides, there is a message I must deliver to him.

  —Very well, then, child. Go to him if you must.

  Thank you, Ana.

  Chapter 43

  A day later, as dusk settled over the colonial city, a dented truck marked with the logo of the Colonial Maintenance Section parked out of the way of the unloading activities at the Transport Corridor. Banks of night lights cast premature shadows across the crowds of tourists still awaiting passage home. Tired, subdued, they gathered in clumps, clinging to their baggage, casting haunted eyes at the cordon of armed men that confined them to a small corner of the grounds.

  The truck pulled into the shadow of the evergreens. Ron Jeffries leaned his arms and chin on the steering wheel and stared at the stucco building housing the corridor entry. Beside him, Verde chewed on a twig and watched the tourists.

  “Look at them, Ron. They’re terrified. The irony of all this is that Lacey probably could have scared the tourists away, with a little of the right kind of help from us.”

  Jeffries’ eyes counted guards, weapons, paces from the target to proper cover. “Mitch, the tourists are not the problem.”

  “I know, I know. But you can see the irony. Poor kid. He’s dead and here we are doing what he was trying to do all along.”

  Jeffries was unmoved. “Word is there’ve been no maintenance stops for two days. Ramos is working both corridors around the clock, more incoming than outgoing.” He shifted slightly and braced a finger on the wheel as if sighting a gun. “If I place the charges to impact inward, and blow them right after a departure, we’ll keep civilian losses to a minimum. I don’t feel bad about the uniforms, but I’d rather not take too many of these good people out just ’cause they’re trying to get home. Still, we’re going to lose some, Mitch, no way we’re not.”

  “Yes,” replied Verde pensively. “One for every Koi murdered during interrogation.” An errant beam from a searchlight reflected off a moving tractor and brushed his face. His eyes fluttered shut with weary resignation. “You know, when Clennan first sprang this idea on me, I was seized with the most unholy joy. I knew it was the answer, the way out. It was like a shot of adrenaline. I was so sure I didn’t stop to consider the consequences. I wonder if that’s how all wars begin.”

  “Mitch, for the love of… Look, with luck, this’ll stop the war, not start it.”

  “But it’s fire with fire,” Verde insisted. “All my life, I’ve believed there was a better way. By God, I’ve used every dirty bureaucratic and legalistic weapon known to man, but never once have I raised my hand in violence. But step by step, I’ve been forced into retreat, waving my signs and writing my letters, until here I am with my goddam back against the proverbial wall. Now when Clennan comes along and puts a bomb in my hand, I shout hallelujah! Pass the matches!” Verde’s taut little body hunched against the plastic seat, a posture as eloquent as a cry of pain. “How am I any saner than James Andreas?”

  “Fighting back is better than dying,” Jeffries offered with utter conviction.

  “But where do you draw the line? How do you know when death is really the only other possibility?”

  “You know.”

  Verde’s shoulders quivered like a fever victim’s. “You and Clennan make it sound so simple. You guys take violence for granted.”

  Jeffries did not disagree.

  “Do you think I’m a coward, Ron?”

  Jeffries chuckled his denial. “Shit, man, you’ve gone up against some heavies I’d never have tackled—big business, government, you know. Courage ain’t determined by your choice of weapons. It’s being willing to stick your neck out, and you’ve done more than your share of that.”

  “But my weapons weren’t working. Who would have led us along this route if Clennan hadn’t suddenly discovered his conscience?”

  Jeffries’ hand worked at his gnome’s beard. “Well, now, I’m still holding out for the possibility that Clennan sees this as a way to set up his own power base here in Arkoi. Mostly I think he’s pissed at Ramos for horning in on what he sees as his territory. Since we need him for now, we make our thieves’ alliance, but I’m sure keeping an eye on him when the dust settles.

  “On the other hand, if you choose to believe he’s sincere, it would seem you had a lot to do with bringing him over to us. The doers do, but the talkers set
the climate, and change don’t occur without the help of both.”

  “Help. Help comes from the damnedest places.”

  “Don’t it though.” They fell silent for a moment, watching the night shift gather at the incoming corridor to receive the next shipment.

  “You know, we’re still going to have our hands full with everyone who’s trapped on this side when the corridor goes,” said Verde. “What about Ramos? Maybe we can subvert his army, but I can’t see ever winning him over.”

  Jeffries looked at him with fond incredulity. “We get rid of him, what else? All right, nothing that isn’t necessary, I promise. Hell, once we destroy his arsenal, he can declare himself emperor of the colony for all I care. I ain’t going to stick around here. If that lunatic Andreas don’t manage to strike me dead, I’m heading for the Interior pronto.”

  “Somebody’s going to have to stay behind to take the colony in hand, to integrate it into the rest of Arkoi. A Terran city in a Koi world? It won’t be easy. And we don’t know for sure that the corridor can be permanently destroyed. If we do it, and then, in time, Terra manages to restore the link, she’ll come after us with every weapon she can muster.”

  Jeffries slid the old truck unto gear, hoping it wouldn’t complain too noisily. “I swear, Mitch, you never wait for one problem to get solved before you worry the next one to distraction! Come on, old man, we only got two hours before we make the explosives pickup, and all four weapons hangars to check out beforehand.”

  Chapter 44

  Jude dawdled along the beach, letting the waves cool her feet. In the empty stretch between the city and the encampment, she felt alone and powerless, not even able to recall what mad impulse had brought her out into the hot sun to reason with a madman.