Desert World Rebirth

by Lyn Gala

  “And she didn’t trust you enough to tell you to get your act together, the way Naite did,” Shan finished for him when Temar fell silent.

  Again, Temar could only shrug. “If I ever get my own feelings sorted, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Shan took one step closer before he stopped. The only light spilled out from the bathroom, creating a long shadow behind Shan as he frowned. “You don’t owe me answers, Temar. I have problems sorting my own emotions—so does Cyla, so does Naite, so does Tom. I’m starting to think that confusion and emotional flailing is the natural human condition and people like Div are just… weird.”

  “Div’s weird?” A laugh slipped out of Temar, because of all the things he had expected Shan to say, that was about the single most surprising thing Temar could imagine.

  “Oh, Div’s very weird. You just don’t know him well enough to notice,” Shan agreed. “So, are you going to get dressed and head up to the tower with me, maybe see what mischief Lilian’s up to before we get surprised?”

  “Give me a second.” Temar grabbed clothes from the floor and quickly pulled them on. The new outfits made for their trip were so beautiful that Temar didn’t want to put them on without washing first. He wasn’t sure that people from water-wealthy planets would appreciate the finely woven cottons, but he did. He’d change later. Shan headed out of the bedroom as Temar pulled on his second shoe, and he hurried to follow.

  As a tall man with long legs, Shan had a stride that Temar had to trot to keep up with. And the closer they came to the access ladder up to the tower, the faster Shan walked. If Lilian was playing games with this landing, Shan was going to be furious. Temar wasn’t sure, though, whether Shan would actually do anything about any schemes. It occurred to Temar that Lilian’s illness was another force, like gravity and fire, that allowed her to bend the glass.

  Shan climbed the ladder faster than Temar could. He followed, finally climbing up into the observation deck, where thick glass separated them from the desert. The tower rose far above the protective cliffs on either side of the station, so that the first stain of sunrise made the dunes seem to stretch out, their long shadows reaching across the white sand hiding the valleys and the lines of rope Naite’s team had lined up to Shan’s specifications. The wooden spires marking the beginning and end of the landing zone were little more than black streaks against the land.

  “Can you see anything?” Temar whispered, even though the height and tower gave them privacy.

  Shan shook his head and leaned against one of the metal rails that lined the platform. “Not yet.”

  Closing the distance between them, Temar rested his hand on Shan’s arm. After a quick smile over his shoulder, Shan returned to watching the north, and Temar leaned in, his cheek resting against Shan’s shoulder as they stood watch together. The desert always cooled at night, and the morning sun brought a brisk wind that stirred up dust devils and started moving the large barchan dunes farther east. Normally the sand was an unbroken sheet of white, the dunes looking like long wrinkles where some hand had failed to smooth the fabric, but Temar could see rough crags covering the north plain.

  “What is that?” Temar lifted his head from Shan’s shoulder and moved closer to the glass.

  “I have no idea.”

  The sun crept up over the horizon, casting long, stark shadows, and Temar frowned, still not understanding what he was seeing. The spots were south of the west landing area, a long trail that thinned and thickened as it led between the far edge of the landing zone and the edge of the valley. “It looks like rocks,” Temar said, even though that was impossible. The Zhang mountains were the only source of sizable boulders in the area, and no one could haul rocks that far. No one sane, anyway.

  “They aren’t. They’re vehicles,” Shan said. “It’s several hundred vehicles all parked out there.”

  As Shan said it, the shapes seemed to suddenly sharpen so that Temar could see the haulers and bikes and sleds, the sand cars and the wide profiles of sand hunters, designed for shooters to stand on either side, and the rescue sleds, with their oversized engines that could power through the worst sandstorm and heavy canopies to protect crew.

  “It’s thousands of vehicles,” Shan corrected himself in an awed whisper.

  Temar understood the emotion. He put his hand out to touch the glass, as if the vision might vanish as the sun rose. “I didn’t know there were that many vehicles on the entire planet.”

  “There aren’t,” Shan answered. Temar gave him a questioning look, and Shan shrugged. “At least there aren’t that many vehicles that run. Some of those must have been towed out here. God above, why would people tow broken loaders out here? Does Lilian think I can shove one airship full of broken haulers the way I would broken datapads?”

  Temar tilted his head. From this high up, he imagined that the ship pilot who landed would see something like this, a scattering of vehicles randomly parked across the sand. With no rows or order, it looked like thousands and thousands of people had driven to the station and randomly parked wherever they wanted. Thousands and thousands and thousands of people. Hell, even if Shan was right that drivers had towed many of the vehicles out here, it must have taken hundreds of people to coordinate something like this.

  “It’s Lilian’s plan,” Temar said softly as he thought about the shuttle pilot seeing a culture with so many vehicles, so many people, so much spare time that they could drop everything to come watch a ship land. It was smoke and mirrors—an illusion that wouldn’t stand up to a good poke with a stick.

  “What plan?” Shan demanded.

  “To make them think we’re strong. She’s trying to make them see that we’re strong enough to fight them if they try to take our world.”

  Shan remained quiet for so long that Temar thought maybe he disagreed. Blindly reaching out, Shan groped for the rail, seeming to find it by rapping his knuckles against it hard enough to make a dull ringing. “If they want to fight for this planet, we aren’t strong enough to hold off a combat cruiser, much less an alliance.”

  “Well, then, we need to make sure they don’t try,” Temar said. “At least Lilian is giving us a good first impression.”

  With a sigh, Shan turned toward the ladder. “Some days I think God blessed us by giving us Lilian Freeland. Other days, I do wish that woman had the good manners to explain what she was doing before she did it.” Pausing at the top of the ladder, Shan looked back toward that north-facing window. “Do you think it’ll work? Do you think the pilot will report back that he sees a significant force?”

  Temar let his own gaze go out to the gathering. “I don’t know. What can their scanners see?” Temar asked.

  Shan sucked air through his front teeth. “I have no idea,” he finally admitted. “A military IMINT system would see metal husks with the engines ripped out and nonfunctional tracts and broken windshields and probably more than one cracked body. However, I don’t know if they have a military IMINT system or that they want to risk equipment that expensive on a ship that’s dropping into atmosphere.” Shan took a deep breath. “I’d say there’s at least a fifty-fifty chance that they’re going to believe we could rally that many vehicles if it came down to a fight.”

  “And there’s a fifty-fifty chance that they’re going to start this negotiation believing that we’re weak liars who can’t even lie well,” Temar said as he realized that the odds weren’t ones he liked.

  Pulling his foot on the ladder, Shan started climbing down. “That’s about it. If we get back in one piece, I’m killing Lilian myself.”

  “Not if I get there first,” Temar muttered to himself. Either she’d given them a fighting chance or she’d set them up for complete, unmitigated disaster. It wasn’t unlike going back into slavery. With that depressing thought, Temar headed down the ladder. He might not like the situation, but he wasn’t going to let Shan go into it alone.

  Chapter 17

  “PEOPLE have a right to witness history,” Lilian said, not
a trace of apology in her voice as she sat on the back of a heavy hauler. Kevin and Dee’eta had come with her, and Naite stood off to the side. Shan slowly turned red, but he didn’t seem to have an answer for that. It’d taken them two hours to find Lilian, and Temar suspected that wasn’t an accident. Already a bright star shone low in the blue sky—the skip shuttle coming low enough to release the airship that would land. Or maybe it already had released the airship, and in minutes a winged monster would follow the long line of green rope pegged across the sand.

  “They’re in danger, and this plan… you don’t know what they can see from their ships.” Shan’s voice had the shrill edge of someone about to truly explode. Dee’eta Sun looked around as though desperate to avoid watching the fight, but Kevin didn’t hide his amusement as he looked from one of them to the other.

  “Council business, go secure the tarps over that tall load,” Naite ordered someone who wandered too near, and Temar noticed that a number of people edged away. No one wanted to volunteer for another of Naite’s jobs.

  “Our people have survived worse,” Lilian said as she looked around at the crowds gathered between the vehicles. A few younger children were chasing around their mothers, but for the most part, the crowd was full of adult men and women with knives strapped to their waistbands and guns in hand. Temar didn’t recognize his own people.

  “A military IMINT system will see that these are old junked pieces of equipment.” Shan gestured toward the field of vehicles.

  “If they have a military IMINT system,” she said calmly.

  “Lilian Freeland.” Shan’s voice was a rough growl, and Naite stepped closer, his gaze suddenly locked on his brother.

  Lilian finally stopped scanning the landing site and really focused on Shan. “What sort of people would go to all the trouble to drag broken machines across such a deep desert? Those must be some very determined and rather unreasonable people, yes?”

  Temar frowned as he thought about that. If nothing else, that sort of behavior would make any sane person question their sanity.

  “Who the hell cares about their ships? Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost us at harvest?” Naite asked.

  “Yes,” Lilian said with a smile. The look Naite gave her came frighteningly close to the look he usually gave Shan.

  “How long do you plan to ask people to stay out here?” Naite asked.

  “Do you really think you could get anyone to leave?” Lilian asked quietly.

  Naite crossed his arms. “After you asked them to come? No.”

  “They want to see the ship, Naite. This is history.” Lilian gestured at the world, her newly forged jewelry shining in the sun. Even though she had half Naite’s height and a third his mass, for that one moment, she was unimaginably large. Then she cringed and pressed her fingers to her side.

  “Lilian,” Kevin said softly.

  “Stop mothering. I sent my two sons away, and I’ll send you away too,” she warned, poking her sharp finger in his direction.

  “I wouldn’t go. Unlike your sons, I’m not actually terrified of you, Lilian,” Kevin pointed out. “But Lilian’s right, Naite. This is a time to look at the sky, not the fields. We’ll all work twice as hard to make up for lost time, but the world is changing and the people of the world have a right to watch it.”

  Naite harrumphed. “This is a sandcat of a pilot who is here to take Shan and Temar up there to meet more sandcats who don’t give a shit about us,” Naite summed it up. Sadly, it was probably a pretty accurate summary.

  “Now, Naite, you don’t always have to be so pessimistic. If the world were as dark as you seemed to think, Ben would be up there telling them all sorts of tales, and we’d all be dying of the plague or starving to death because we didn’t tend the crops well enough. Give the boys and God some room to work here,” Lilian ordered.

  “It’s not God I’m worried about,” Naite grumbled as he gave Temar a look devoid of any sort of emotion. “And I’m not going to be there to ride to their rescue if they do something particularly stupid,” he warned.

  “You’re assuming there’s going to be trouble,” Kevin said, coming to Shan and Temar’s defense.

  Temar suspected that Naite might be right. The AFP people liked to bash the Planetary Alliance and they’d made a few references to security and Planetary Alliance terrorists, so he knew they had security issues. Temar’s stomach had been in knots for the past week, and unlike the previous months, he couldn’t dismiss it as some stupid, lingering effect from Ben. He wasn’t afraid of ghosts from his past—he was afraid of these people coming down out of the sky.

  “Even if there is trouble, Shan and Temar can take care of themselves,” Lilian said. Temar tried to not take it personally when no one else added their own vote of confidence to that.

  “We’ll be keeping the communications relay open,” Kevin said after the silence grew awkward. “Jim Hu and his wife Yheta are going to move out here and the rescue teams are ready to move if we have unauthorized landings. You can count on us to enforce whatever conditions you set for them.” Kevin hopped down from the end of the hauler and slapped Shan on the shoulder.

  After that, no one really seemed to want to talk as eyes turned toward the sky. All the movement had attracted a number of buteo that circled above them, looking for prey. Temar stood next to the hauler, too nervous to sit down, and Shan came to stand behind him, slowly slipping his arm around Temar’s waist.

  “There!” a voice called out from far down the line of vehicles, but soon more followed, and Temar could see hands going up into the air, all pointing to the north.

  “Is that….” Temar stopped when he saw a flash against the blue sky. It looked like a small bird soaring over the sand, but as he watched, the spot seemed to double in size and then double again until he could see the silver clearly.

  “It’s the airship.” Shan pressed closer, and Temar could feel Shan go so still, he suspected the man wasn’t even breathing.

  It was like watching a vid in slow motion, the way the ship slowly got bigger and bigger. The rush of words from the gathered crowd slowly stilled as the wings and the main body of the ship grew distinct, so that by the time the engine roar rumbled through the air, every person watching was utterly silent. The children had moved closer to their parents, and Temar wrapped his hands around Shan’s arms and held on tight as the ship turned slightly, so that Temar could see the length of it as it lined up with the runway.

  By the time the plane started to drop, the wind rose, creating strange, curled wisps that rose straight up into the air, and people scrambled to get in their vehicles.

  “Hurry up,” Kevin called as he started unfurling the cover. Naite helped Dee’eta up into the empty bed with Lilian, and Temar scrambled to follow. Shan gave him a helping shove and then climbed up while Naite and Kevin rolled the heavy tarp down and the back of the truck went dark.

  “I guess we’re not going to see that landing after all,” Lilian commented wryly.

  “If you want a good case of sandblindness, I can open the cover,” Kevin offered. Temar could hear her hit at him even over the sand scratching against the cover and the engine rumble. The ship’s engine got louder until the entire truck vibrated, and Temar reached out and grabbed an arm—hopefully Shan’s.

  “They aren’t landing on top of us, are they?” Dee’eta yelled over the sound. Sand hit the cover, forcing its way through a thousand cracks until the air was thick. Temar pulled his shirt up around his nose and mouth, tucking his arms close to his body. When the sound had grown so loud that Temar cringed from the noise, it suddenly changed, like a hauler shifting gears, the sound tapering off until it was only a faint growl. The sand hitting the tarp eased and went silent, although the air was still full of dust. They definitely couldn’t have ships land near the cities, that was for sure.

  “I think we have guests,” Kevin said. Temar could hear the click of the tarp lock opening, and then he pulled back a corner so they could see the
gray sky stained with dust.

  “Noisy guests,” Naite said as he unhooked the other cover and helped Kevin push it back. Temar looked around, horrified to see that all their best clothes were now covered by a layer of fine dust. Lilian’s gray hair didn’t show the sand dust, but everyone else looked as if they’d gone gray in an instant, and the bright colors of Dee’eta’s loose blouse had all been muted by the dust. Only Naite looked the same in his dusty work clothes and scuffed boots.

  “We’re going to make quite a first impression,” Lilian said with a smile as she started brushing off her shirt, raising clouds of dust around her. “Well, when you kick dirt in someone’s face, you have to expect them to get dirty.”

  Naite snorted, and from the expression on Shan’s face, he would have done the same if Naite hadn’t done it first.

  “Let’s get out there and meet them,” Shan said as he let down the end of the loader bed and jumped down.

  “This is it,” Temar whispered as he looked at the shadow of a ship through a cloud of slowly settling sand. Shan’s arm slipped around his waist, and Temar offered a weak smile. Even better, he avoided throwing up all over Shan’s legs, which was a real possibility, given how his stomach felt.

  “Hurry up, people,” Lilian called as she strode toward the ship. It was a huge, silver beast, taller than three men standing on each other’s shoulders, with wings that seemed to go on for miles. Two enormous engines with gaping mouths pointed toward the rear sat on top of the machine, and despite the fact that Temar had assumed they were all well back from the landing strip, he could see that a few of the vehicles were dangerously close to the path of the wing.

  “Lilian, don’t get too close. It’s going to be hot,” Shan said as he hurried after her, and Temar was left with Kevin and Dee’eta to bring up the rear. Surprisingly, Naite stayed behind, leaning against the hauler with a long gun now in his hand. Bylla started walking toward them from another direction. Unlike the rest of them, she had on a plain outfit, a dark gray that had to be hot in the sun and now was mottled with dust.