Annah and the Children of Evohe

by Clay Gilbert

  “Guess that’s what Turner wants us to do, too,” Holder said. “Wait.”

  “Right,” Goodman said. “I’m fine with that. It’s what we’re waiting for that makes me a little jumpy.”

  * * *

  “Holder,” Annah murmured, “let me sleep, my dearest. So tired.” “You have been sleeping, child,” Serra told her. “Three days now. And Holder is not here, as you well know. But, when you are calm, look into your Vision. I think you will find, as I have, that he is safe, for now.”

  “For now,” Annah said, feeling suddenly wide awake. “I do not like that, Serra.” Serra gave a soft laugh, but it was a sound with no meanness in it. “We do not get to choose to live along only those paths that are pleasant. We also, at times, have to walk in dark places, where there is a chance we may lose our way. But that does not mean it will happen. I have not looked to see what may be, Annah. I know only that he lives, and is safe. Look for yourself, if you wish.”

  Annah sat up, feeling heavy all over, as if she were coated in the bark of the great trees of the Elder Grove, as the ones who slept there were. She drew a breath; started to ask Serra what had happened to her. No, she told herself. That can wait. I must think of Holder now. I must see him. She closed her eyes; sought her still point. Then, gradually, Vision opened for her. There he is. He was aboard some kind of-she searched for the right word, in Holder’s language, in her mindstation, or baseon another world. And the shadows she had seen appearing in the air? They had come to help, not to harm. My Holder. My dearest one. You are safe. And what I am becoming-the things I am learning-to some degree, I do them so that you may remain safe. And so that our children, when they come one day, will be as well. And I do these things, as I know you do, because I must. And now that I know you are safe, I can continue along this road—the path of my true Becoming.

  Annah opened her eyes, fixing them on the Elder Shaper. “Tell me what has happened, Serra. I have never fainted like that before. The Shaper’s trance has always, before, been so kind to me. And now-now I feel so different.”

  Annah looked around herself, noticing her surroundings for the first time since she awakened. This was not her parents’ homeground, with familiar plants and stones whose songs she had heard since she was a bloomling; with a hearthfire set in the shelter of two twisted, ancient trees that Danae and Llew told her had stood tall until the morning she was born, when they had bent low to glimpse her tiny, shining face and had been so enraptured by her blue eyes that they had stayed that way, merely to be close to her. It was a pleasant story, she thought, remembering. But this place was very different. The trees seemed to stand apart from the pit where the hearthfire burned, as though a powerful Shaper--perhaps, Annah thought, even Serra herself-had bid them make room. Acircle of tall stones stood around the pit that was, itself, the only common feature between her parents’homeground and this one, which was Serra’s. “It is very beautiful,”Annah told Serra, gazing all around her.

  “Thank you,” Serra said, getting up from the stone she sat upon and coming to stand beside the beddings in which Annah still lay. “I have worked with the First Ones as best I can to make it so, although, I must say, they have done most of the work. That is as it usually happens.” She laughed. “In any case, it is my home, and I hope that you will consent, now, to call it yours for a time.”

  Annah’s eyes widened. “Mine?”

  Serra nodded. “If you wish. Until your mate returns; until you make your Choosing.” “But my parents; they are well?” Annah knew it was foolish to feel panic now; knew that Serra would have let her know if anything had happened—and moreover, she herself would have known if something were wrong. But there’d been so much trouble. No matter, she told herself, taking a deep breath and willing her mind into stillness; her racing heart into a peaceful rhythm. Those things are in the past. “Serra,” Annah said, fixing her eyes on the elder Shaper, “you must tell me what has happened.”

  Serra smiled.

  Annah felt a wave of calm settle over her at the sight, although nothing had, as of yet, been said. “Your parents are well,” Serra said. “They are where you left them, at the homeground where you were bloomed and born. And they know that you are here.”

  “They do? Why am I here, Serra? Did I-displease them? Perhaps it is too hard for them now, after being away so long.”

  The words came without thought, in a rush of emotion. No, Annah told herself. They have been happy to have me near them again. I know they have. There is another explanation. Annah sought to view her emotions the way she would see the cycles of nature around her, like the changing flows of a stream, or the sprouting of new shoots in seed-time, and the harvest when the time of Full-fruit came upon the land. It is the way of things, and I must flow with it, or else be drowned. And I will not be drowned. “Tell me what happened,” Annah said, her voice calm again.

  Serra sensed that the seed-maiden had won her inner struggle, and smiled. “Your parents know you are here, and you have not displeased them. They hope, as I do, that once you understand, you will want to be here, at least until Holder returns.”

  “Understand what?”Annah asked. “What happened to you,” Serra said, “is what was expected-by me, by your parents, by Mergin, and even others. Your Awakening has begun. Sooner, perhaps, than it might in some Shapers, but that was, in some degree, expected as well.”

  “MyAwakening?” Annah asked.

  Serra nodded. “Being a Shaper is not a simple thing, Annah. It is neither a thing that is merely decided upon and studied for, as one like your friend Moren might study the law, nor is it something born in the blood, and beyond choice, like your unusual blue eyes, or golden hair.”

  Annah blushed. She still sometimes felt strange because of the way she looked, although Holder had told her many times how beautiful he thought she was, and it had gone a long way toward easing her discomfort.

  “Do you remember, Annah, when you were a bloomling, and you first learned about your Becoming, and the changes your body would go through because of it?”

  “Yes, of course.” “Shaper training is like that. It sets in motion certain changes: changes in consciousness, yes, but internal changes, too. Changes in your brain, itself. That’s a large part of what Awakening is. After that happens, you are never quite the same, again. And it must happen before the deeper training-the more focused training-can begin.”

  “I thought it was the shock of seeing Holder, and what seemed to be happening to him, that caused me to lose consciousness,”Annah said. “I suppose it was not.”

  “No,” Serra said. “It was the first clear Vision you had had through your own conscious will, and it triggered your Awakening. You did fade out for a time, but with all that effort, that is not surprising. But you did not lose consciousness, Annah. You gained it.”

  Annah smiled, then grew serious again. “And now you, and my parents, want me to stay with you, so that this deeper training may begin?”

  “At this point, child, it cannot be a matter of our will. You must determine what is to come. You may continue on the Shaper’s path, or you may go back to the hearth of your parents and choose some other destiny. What is your will, Annah? What do you choose to do?”

  “I want to continue my training,” Annah said without hesitation. “I am a Shaper, and it is what I want to be. Other than to be with Holder, it is what I want most in the world.”

  “You will not have to give up the one to attain the other. Both these paths are meant for you. All that was needed was for you to choose for yourself.”

  “And I do.” “Then tomorrow, we will begin. Today, we will return to your parents’ homeground, so that you may gather what you wish to bring with you. I am sure your parents will be pleased with your decision. Greatly pleased, indeed.”

  * * * “I’m tired of this, Holder,” Goodman said. “We’ve been sitting here two days waiting for some sign of something. Not a damn thing so far. Aren’t we supposed to be pirates? Shouldn’t we, I don’t kn
ow, be out doing some pirating?” Have you even seen Turner? I haven’t; not since yesterday.”

  “It’s not like nothing’s been going on,” Holder said. “Turner gave us a job to do—making sure nothing comes through from Earth. And that, if it does, we’re ready for it. We have to hold the line.”

  “It’s just hard for me to get used to, man,” Goodman said. “When I was on Active. I was always one of the front-line guys. That’s why I hated the hell out of getting stuck in a desk job. I’m feeling like this is just another desk job, with a better view.”

  “It’s not, Goodman,” Holder said. “I may’ve seen a lot of space in these last few years while you’ve been at that desk, but most of what I’ve been doing’s been picking up space trash. I had to go off the radar to feel like I was making a difference at all.”

  “You mean meeting Annah?”

  “That was the start of it, yeah.”

  “I can see where that’d make a difference.” Holder smiled. “It did. It does. Maybe not the way you’re thinking, though. Before I met Annah, I had pretty much given up. Space was the only thing that meant a damn to me—because it wasn’t Earth. As long as I could be out there, I had my freedom. Or thought I did.”

  “Heh. Hard to tell the difference sometimes, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. That wasn’t freedom, just getting away. When I met Annah-when I realized there was someone willing to take a chance for me, when she had every reason not to-well, then I didn’t need to be in space to feel free. And I didn’t need to run. But I was still missing something else, and that’s one reason I came up here, besides not wanting to put Annah in the middle of a fight that isn’t hers: I needed a purpose.”

  Goodman frowned. “Holder, you dumb son of a bitch. Annah loves you no matter what you are, or what you do. You didn’t have to come up here to prove anything to her. You could be back there right now with her.”

  “No, Goodman, I couldn’t. You know Homesec’s bound to find out about Evohe again sooner or later. I couldn’t let it be because looking for me led them right to it. Back there, one of the elders of Annah’s people, Serra, told us that Annah and I have a reason for being together; that we’re both Shapers—best way I can explain that is to say that we’re people who can change things, and help people to change. Annah’s trying to do that right now, back there. I’m trying to do it out here. It’ll help us be better at what we’re meant to do, when I get back to her. But this isn’t some kind of side-trip. This isn’t a desk job, Goodman. This is the front line.”

  “Speaking of that,” Goodman said, “Look. Out there.” There had been no motion from the Ghost Knives’ fleet since their arrival three days earlier, but now a point of golden light shone from one of the port windows on the vast black craft that Holder guessed was the fleet’s flagship, like a new sun birthed in the black.

  All at once, there was a crackle from the ‘com bank in front of Holder, and he jumped. There hadn’t been so much as a hum on the band in two days. “Holdfast Station. Holdfast Station, respond.”

  Holder punched down the ‘com switch. “Holdfast Station here. This is Gary Holder, chief reconnaissance officer.” Okay, so that was sort of made up. Turner had given neither him nor Goodman an official rank since they’d been involved in the operation on Holdfast, but given Holder’s background, he thought that if there had been a chief recon officer aboard the station, it’d be him.

  “Very well, Holder,” said the voice from the Ghost Knives’ flagship. “I am Jamin Bey. I am chief of the Ghost Knives, and commander of the clan flagship; the ship you see before you. It is called the Entropy Rose. In the past, few who have seen our fleet have lived to tell others the news. But your commander, the one called Turner, treated us with honor. We have been pleased to call him friend, and to join with him in common cause since the government of Earth began this war. We have received sad news, and we hope now that we may extend our friendship to you, and that our cause may be yours, as it was his.”

  “You’re saying Turner’s dead?” Holder asked. “What happened to him?” “We don’t know anything for certain other than that he is missing,” Jamin Bey said. “He never arrived at the safepoint he set out for, and never sent word of his whereabouts. This is most unusual for him. It may be that he is dead, or that he is a prisoner of our enemies. In any case, the work we were doing together must continue, and this is what he would want. I would like to come aboard and speak to you about this.”

  “Sure,” said Holder, his voice steadier than his stomach.

  “Looks like we’re going to get some pirating done after all,” Goodman said with a grin.

  “You are up early,Annah.” Annah turned from the flames of Serra’s hearth-fire at the sound of the Elder Shaper’s footsteps. Most mornings since she had come to live and train here, Annah had arisen to find Serra had been awake for several measures already, and with some delight already simmering on the coals for first-meal.

  “Yes,” Annah said, taking both of Serra’s hands in her own in greeting. “It is nothing.”

  “Have you dreamed ill dreams again?” Serra asked.

  “It is nothing,”Annah said again.

  “I have told you before,” Serra said, “We cannot make progress together if you will not trust me.” Annah thought of her recent conflict with Holder; a conflict which might have separated them for who knew how long, had the sound of his thoughts in her head not persuaded her to reconsider. It seems I had my own lessons to learn, my beloved, she thought, wondering if he could hear her, out there in the Sea of Stars, surrounded by the great ships which looked like pieces of the stars themselves, and the men who steered them.

  “It is only my own fear, Serra. I see so much more now, and I can hardly control what comes.” “That is to be expected, Annah. You must learn to see the Patterns at the root of all things. This is where we will begin today.”

  Annah’s heart leapt with excitement. She had been here, living and training with Serra, for two weeks now. She had spent the first week doing-well, not much of anything, she thought, looking back-but she had understood the point of it. All the very basic things she had learned from Serra in the days and weeks before Holder left, a time that was growing more distant as each new day passed-these were only foundations. She had learned the role a Shaper should play in the world: a reconciler of life to life; a realigner of that which was disordered. Like this world, she thought. Like so many worlds.

  Annah had opened her mind to Vision and Memory; let them carry her to long-past points in time, like gleaming stars spinning, forgotten, in black space. She had seen a time in her world’s distant past, before the humans’ war, before the Breaking that had sprung from it like black fruit from a bitter seed—a time when Evohe had been full of Shapers, and rich with their gifts. Her world had been changed, she knew, because of the Breaking, but she knew something else had been lost, long before. It was why they were able to do what they did to us when they came here, Annah thought, in a moment of both memory and realization.

  And, somehow, it is a part of what is happening to the people of Holder’s world; a part of this war. My people were already missing something within themselves when the humans came with their ships and their fire, missing something so important that the Shapers’ song had almost been extinguished within the heart of our race, and most of us neither noticed nor cared.

  “Was it—the Pattern?” she asked Serra. “Was that what we lost?” “Not Pattern, child,” Serra said. “Patterns. There are more than one, though that knowledge has been largely lost, as has our ability to see our place within them. Yes. It is a great insight. Your Awakening has changed things for you, Annah, as much for the better as the great Stillness that overcame so many of us all those long years ago changed things for the worse, for all of us. All around us, the Patterns are flawed, and the Memories of our people are incomplete. There is a need for a greater Restoration. And that is part of what the Restorer is to accomplish, when she comes.”

  Serra’s word
s sent a shiver of both excitement and fear through Annah. “What are the Patterns?” Annah asked. “What is missing from the Memories?”

  “So many questions,” Serra replied with a smile. “Would you know the whole of Shaping in one measure’s time?”

  “If I could,” Annah said. “But I know it is not possible.” Serra laughed. “No, it is not. But you shall learn all that I can teach you, and then you shall find out still other mysteries for yourself. Tell me, do you remember what you learned about the Points of Connection? What we also call the Shaper’s Roads?”

  “I do,”Annah said.

  “And which do you think is the most practical?”

  Annah thought for a moment. “Music. It is the easiest creative force available to join many at once.”

  “This is true. And the Shapers who were left after the Breaking knew this.” “But there were almost none of you left,” Annah said, her Vision opening time like a window. “Almost none of us,” she added, in a quiet voice.

  “That is right,” Serra agreed. “And because we were few, we knew our work was even more important. We used our skills in the Path of Music; we gathered as many as there were outside our own ranks who had the will to assist, for our kind were much broken in spirit, and we sang the world back into being, from a circle of ships just outside what had been its atmosphere.”

  “The ships.” Annah shuddered with another shock of Vision. “There were Shapers and non-Shapers alike on board; as many as could fit. But there were only five ships.”

  Serra nodded. “Our kind had never cared for the Sea of Stars, even then. The ships we needed had to be built, and quickly. Those of us who had the ability had seen what was going to happen; we went to the Elder Council and told them what had to be done.”

  “I know,” Annah said, her blue eyes wide with wonder. “I can see it.” “Those left behind, and there were many, tried to understand. But even those of us who had seen did not know exactly why the end was coming; only that it was.”

  Annah shook her head, as if to clear the bitter sight from the space behind her eyes. “Terrible,” she said. It was not the first time she had seen this particular Memory, but it was the first time she was able to give it its proper context.