Chapter Four
Ran-Del woke to the sun on his face. As soon as he opened his eyes, he remembered the events of the day before. He sat up abruptly and looked around the garden. The pinkish cast to the pale orange sky told him it was shortly after dawn.
He walked around the flower beds collecting a handful of pebbles. One at a time, he tried to toss them over the wall, but each one hit the invisible barrier and bounced back to the ground. He succeeded in getting a pebble over the wall only when he tossed it high enough into the air that it arced a good two meters over the top.
Having satisfied himself that there was no weak point in the force field, Ran-Del walked back into the house. The door opened by itself when he set foot on the steps, and he walked through it to find that someone had removed the tray Francesca had brought. He checked the rooms carefully, but could find no other sign that anyone had been there.
Ran-Del used the bathroom, first the toilet and then the shower. He remembered Stefan’s instructions and had no difficulty working the unfamiliar mechanisms.
He stood in the shower for quite a while, the feel of the water bringing to mind the times he had bathed in the waterfalls of the Yellow River. The point where the river dropped precipitously over a series of boulders made a cascade of waterfalls that gave his clan its name. The falls were almost a kilometer from his village, but they were a favorite spot for young people to meet.
Ran-Del closed his eyes and brought to mind the time that he had seen Bettine there. She had been bathing alone, which wasn’t proper for an unmarried woman. He should have left at once, but the sight of her had mesmerized him. He had watched her for several minutes before she had seen him. She had been embarrassed, but not unduly so. It had occurred to him later that, although she had turned her back to him, she had taken her time in covering herself.
He had gone to his grandfather the next day, and told him that he wanted to marry Bettine. His grandfather had promised to put the matter before Great-grandfather. Ran-Del could still taste the bitterness of his disappointment when his Great-grandfather had refused to allow him to court Bettine—had said that he must put all thought of marrying her out of his mind.
Ran-Del let his memories flow over him much as the water flowed over his body. He could almost smell the faint, musky scent of the medicine tree that formed the north support for his great-grandfather’s house, the house he had lived in for most of his life. Abruptly, he turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower. He turned on the air dryer that Stefan had demonstrated to him, but he didn’t like the feel of the warm air blowing across his skin. It took him a few minutes to make the drawers open but eventually he found the towels stowed neatly away.
He rubbed himself dry and then dressed, annoyed first by the alien device on his arm, and second by the lack of clean undergarments. The morning ritual called for cleanliness.
Ran-Del stepped back into the garden and faced the rising sun. He closed his eyes and recited the First Blessing, accepting the day as a gift, and asking that he and his family be as healthy when the sun set as when it rose. Next he sat down on the grass and meditated for several minutes, letting his body relax as samad state overtook him. He could feel anger and tension flow away, replaced by calmness and tranquility.
Just as Ran-Del let out the last deep, cleansing breath, he became aware of someone standing behind him. He wasn’t surprised to turn his head and see Stefan Hayden.
“Good morning,” Stefan said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”
Ran-Del gave him a scornful stare as he got to his feet. “How can you disturb me more than you have already?”
“Very true. I suppose forcible abduction has to count as a disturbance.”
His cheerful admission stung Ran-Del. “You admit that you’ve wronged me?”
“Of course.”
“Then how can you refuse to release me?”
The twisted curve of Stefan’s smile matched the bitterness and regret Ran-Del sensed from him. “Because I have no choice. Besides, you have a test this morning. Depending on how you do, you may be on your way home quite soon.”
He spoke the truth. Ran-Del’s heart jumped at the thought of going home. “What kind of test?”
“You’ll see after you eat. I’ll send someone to fetch you when the test is ready.”
Ran-Del saw another tray of food on the table. He waited until the other man had gone to go into the sitting room and eat. None of the food was familiar. The plate held bread, lighter than he was used to, and thin, crisp strips of unknown but salty meat. The bowl contained thick cereal that looked like porridge except it was white instead of orange. Ran-Del ate it all, thinking that it would be good to keep up his strength.
He had just finished draining the cup of hot tea that was the only normal thing about his breakfast when the door trilled. He waited, and in seconds, the man called Toth came in, accompanied by a woman and two other men.
“Come along,” Toth said, holding the door open. “Baron Hayden is waiting.”
Ran-Del followed, eager to see the rest of this strange house. He found himself in what seemed to him to be a very long, featureless room, too narrow to be of use for living space or even storage. Only after they had passed several doors did it dawn on Ran-Del that the narrow room’s only purpose was to lead to other rooms.
Ran-Del was careful not to be overt about it, but he eagerly watched every detail of his surroundings. All of the strangers were armed, and the woman had a kit just like the one Toth had worn the day before. Toth opened the last door and held it for Ran-Del, who walked through it into a small room and took in the setting at a glance.
The windowless room seemed sparsely furnished. A small table stood in the middle of the bare floor with three chairs around it. Stefan sat in the center chair, and a young boy sat next to him. The boy looked about seven or eight seasons old, with black hair cropped short, and a frightened expression on his thin face. Cords bound his wrists tightly to the arms of his chair, and Ran-Del wondered if he were being punished for something.
Only Toth followed Ran-Del into the room. The other guards waited in the corridor. The door shut, and Stefan rose to his feet. “Hello, Ran-Del. This is Jerzy.”
Ran-Del looked at the boy more closely. He could sense the child’s fear from across the room. The boy wore an embroidered jacket over his shirt, and a sash around his waist. His matching trousers, tucked into gleaming boots, completed the impression of idle wealth.
“What is the nature of the test?” Ran-Del said. “What must I do to go home?”
“Ah!” Stefan said. “Such impatience. Since you insist, I’ll tell you.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and displayed a weapon to Ran-Del, a slender gleaming cylinder with a curved handle. “This is a laser pistol. It’s very different from a shock gun, like the one we used on you. Shock guns temporarily incapacitate a person, inflicting pain but no lasting damage. A laser, on the other hand, cuts a hole right through whatever its target is. Here, I’ll show you.”
Stefan lifted his hand and pointed the weapon at the empty chair. When he pressed a switch, a tiny circle of hair-thin beams of light shot out of the pistol and hit the back of the chair. A black circle appeared in the fabric, and a burning smell filled the air. A thin plume of smoke rose from the chair, and in a second, a hole the size of Ran-Del’s little finger went right through the fabric, padding, and wood.
“You see?” Stefan said with satisfaction. “It’s quite simple. The range is already set. You fire a laser pistol by pointing at the target, pressing the red switch here with your finger, and holding it down.”
Ran-Del stared at him, perplexed, and then studied the hole in the chair. “I’m supposed to shoot that thing? At what?”
“At Jerzy.”
“What?” Ran-Del said, dumbstruck. The Baron must be insane—or making a very bad joke.
“You will shoot at Jerzy,” Stefan said. “I think it’ll be best if you aim directly for the heart. I don’t want him to suffer, and that will
be quickest.”
Ran-Del stared at the boy, who sat in mute apprehension. His fear was so strong now that it seemed to fill the air and choke Ran-Del.
“Why?” Ran-Del demanded.
“I don’t propose to tell you that,” Stefan said. “All I’ll tell you is, if you take this laser pistol and shoot Jerzy with it, I’ll send you safely back to your forest. I expect you can tell that I’m not lying?”
Ran-Del nodded. It seemed incredible, but he sensed that the Baron spoke perfect truth.
Stefan held out the pistol, butt first.
The weapon felt very light and smooth in Ran-Del's hand, an innocuous thing to be able to burn a hole through wood with less effort than it took to draw a bow.
Ran-Del looked at the boy. He still hadn’t spoken. Perhaps he thought it would be useless, or perhaps he was too terrified to speak.
“Go ahead,” Stefan said, stepping back as if to give Ran-Del room. “No point in making him suffer any longer.”
Without hesitation, Ran-Del lifted the weapon, leveled it at Jerzy and then swung it around to point straight at Stefan’s chest. He pressed the firing switch and held it down but nothing happened.
Ran-Del gave an exclamation of disgust as the Baron walked over and took the pistol from his hand.
“I neglected to mention,” Stefan said, “that a common feature of laser pistols is that they can be calibrated to individual users. This particular pistol will fire only for me.”
Ran-Del glared at him. “It was a trick!”
“Of course.”
Ran-Del tried to sort it all out in his mind. The child was still afraid, even though Stefan had put down the pistol. “You never intended to hurt the boy?”
“Also true.” Stefan loosened the cords that bound Jerzy’s hands to the chair. “Jerzy knew quite well the pistol wouldn’t fire for anyone but me. I let him try it before you came in.”
“Then why is he so afraid?”
“Because of you,” Stefan said as the boy pulled off his bonds.
“Did I do it right?” Jerzy asked, sounding eager even as he gave Ran-Del a swift, frightened glance. “Do I get the scooter?”
“You did it perfectly,” Stefan said. “The scooter is waiting for you in the yard.”
“Why is he afraid of me?” Ran-Del interrupted.
“Jerzy has grown up with stories about the savage Sansoussy.” Stefan knelt down to untie the boy’s ankles. “In Shangri-La, mothers tell their children that the Sansoussy come into the city and steal bad children who don’t do their chores. In addition, I told Jerzy that you had killed several children.” He glanced up at Ran-Del, speculation in his gaze. “You do look rather fierce. We’ll have to change that.”
Rage filled Ran-Del. His fingers itched to wrap themselves around Stefan’s throat. Only the thought of Toth standing behind him with a shock pistol stopped him from strangling the older man on the spot. “Does this mean that you won’t let me go home?”
“I’m sorry,” Stefan said, radiating both regret and triumph as he rose to his feet, “but you passed the test, you see, so you have to stay.”
Ran-Del debated briefly. He was certain he could take out Toth before the man could fire on him, but less sure that Stefan wouldn’t bring a weapon to bear on him while he did it. On the other hand, if the Baron used the laser on him, it could provide the escape he craved. But would Jerzy be in the way? Ran-Del estimated the Baron’s angle of fire.
The door slid open and the other three guards stood waiting to take him back. The opportunity had passed.
Once he was back in his quarters, Ran-Del walked through the sitting room door and kept going until he was outside in the garden. He sat down on the grass and let himself reach a minimal samad state so that he could get over his anger and let his mind work on the puzzle of what had happened that morning.
Stefan had tricked him, implying that he had a reason to want Jerzy killed. But he hadn’t lied when he had told Ran-Del that he would send him home if he fired the pistol at the boy.
Whatever the Baron intended to do with Ran-Del, he didn’t want him if he would kill a child to buy his freedom. Ran-Del tried to imagine what possible need a man of Shangri-La could have for a Sansoussy warrior.
Ran-Del knew little about the ways of the cities. The Sansoussy produced most of what they required, needing to trade only for metal. They bartered hides, rare herbs, and nodules of petrified tree sap that they mined from the forest floor for arrow heads, pots and pans, steel blades for their dirks, glass beads, and other manufactured goods. Peddlers from the cities came among them freely and were entertained as guests. Ran-Del had listened to their stories of city life without entirely believing them, partly because the peddlers themselves had seemed ordinary enough. Vehicles that flew had seemed to him entirely too fantastic.
Ran-Del was suddenly conscious of another presence behind him. He knew before he turned his head that it was Francesca.
“Hello,” she said. “Are you finished meditating, or should I go away?”
“I’m finished. Why are you here?”
She seemed a little uncomfortable at the directness of his question. “I thought you might like some company.” She sat down on the grass beside him.
Ran-Del studied her, remembering what her father had said about what people in the cities believed about the Sansoussy. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
She cocked her head to one side and returned his scrutiny. “No. I don’t know why, but I’m certain that you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“You should be afraid of me,” Ran-Del said, turning his head away. “You have good reason.”
“You wouldn’t kill Jerzy. Not even to go home.”
“The boy had never harmed me.”
“Neither have I.”
He looked at her and saw in the line of her jaw and the tilt of her head the resemblance to Stefan Hayden even more strongly than before.
She seemed to realize it. “I’m not my father.”
Instead of answering her comment, he asked another question. “Who is Jerzy?”
“His father is our butler, and his mother works in the kitchen. Pop offered to give him an expensive toy he wanted if he helped with the test.”
Ran-Del digested this information. A butler must be some specific kind of minion. The Baron had dressed Jerzy in fine clothes to make him look important and frightened him so that Ran-Del would sense the boy’s fear and believe that he was being asked to commit murder. It seemed an elaborate test.
“Why did your father bring me here?” Ran-Del said. “What does he want with me?”
She looked down at her hands. “I told you already that I can’t tell you yet.”
Ran-Del felt a surge of anger and frustration. He lunged sideways, knocking her flat onto the ground, and held her down by her shoulders.
“Tell me!” he ordered.
She didn’t seem in the least afraid of him. He didn’t sense any anxiety at all. “I can’t.”
He put his hands on her neck and pressed his thumbs lightly over the artery in the hollow of her throat. She would be unconscious within seconds if he applied real pressure. “Tell me!”
“No,” she almost whispered. She still didn’t seem afraid. She didn’t struggle or even try to move his hands away, and Ran-Del couldn’t sense any distress.
Ran-Del was disgusted. The very fact that she didn’t fight him made it impossible for him to hurt her.
He suddenly became aware that she was a woman and he was lying almost on top of her. He could feel her breasts rising and falling as she breathed. She had a faint, delicate fragrance, almost like wild flowers, and the sunlight made her black hair gleam. He found himself staring into her eyes and noticed that they were brown, with darker color around the edges, so that it looked as if her irises were outlined in black.
She held quite still and didn’t move.
Ran-Del suddenly let go of her and sat up, turning his back to her. “Go away.”
He could hear her sit
ting up behind him.
“Why?” she said. “What do you have to do that you need to be alone?”
Irritation blossomed. She wouldn’t leave him to his misery, and she wouldn’t do anything to make him less miserable. “Are all women so inquisitive in this city, or are you unusually so?”
“I’d like to think I'm unusual.”
“Francesca!”
She jumped guiltily at the sound of her father’s voice.
“Francesca, what the hell are you doing here?” Stefan Hayden demanded, striding through the door from the sitting room. Toth and another man followed him out and waited by the door.
“I was talking to Ran-Del,” Francesca said, rising to her feet. “What’s wrong with that?”
Ran-Del stood up, shocked at the lack of respect in her voice when she spoke to her father.
“I told you not to come here alone,” Stefan said.
“Ran-Del wouldn’t hurt me, Pop,” Francesca said. “Do I look hurt?”
“No,” he said. “But don’t do it again.”
Francesca’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “But, Pop, if I’m not supposed to come here alone—”
“That’s enough, Francesca,” Stefan interrupted. “Run along.”
That got a grin. “It seems counterproductive to me.”
“Just go!” Stefan said.
Ran-Del gave up trying to follow the hidden thread of whatever it was Stefan didn’t want said aloud. He watched Francesca Hayden walk into the house. When he looked back at Stefan he found the older man studying him.
“I’ve done you a great wrong,” Stefan said, strong emotion surging from him. “I know I owe you a debt. But if you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you without a second thought.”
Ran-Del stared at him. The man loved his daughter more than anything else. This at least was something he could understand. But there was something else. Stefan Hayden was afraid. “You trapped me like an animal, then brought me here. You tell me that if I were willing to murder an innocent child, I could go home, but since I’m not, I have to stay here. What is it you want from me?”
Stefan shrugged his shoulders, his fear ebbing. “I told you, I need you to save my house.”
Ran-Del nodded at the door where Francesca had just exited. “For her?”
Stefan nodded. “For her.”
“What do I have to do?”
The Baron shook his head. “I don’t think I had better tell you just yet.”
His answer reminded Ran-Del of Francesca’s similar reply. “Was it another test?”
Stefan raised his eyebrows. “Was what another test?”
“Francesca,” Ran-Del said. “Was her coming here alone another test?”
Stefan shook his head emphatically. “I’d never risk her life to test you.”
Ran-Del didn’t need his psy gift to know the man spoke the truth.
“All the same,” Stefan added, “I may not have planned it, but it’s reassuring that you didn’t harm her. It may well be that I don’t need anymore tests.”
Ran-Del grew angry again. The man obviously cared nothing about anyone else’s feelings. “What right have you to test me, to keep me here?”
“Only the rights that wealth and power give me.”
Ran-Del moved closer, his anger close to boiling over. “And if I rip your heart out? What would that test?”
Stefan laughed. “It would test your ability to withstand the blast of two shock pistols at once.”
Ran-Del looked beyond the baron and saw that Toth and the other guard had leveled their weapons at him. There was no way Ran-Del could use the older man’s body to block both shots. “Have you come here for a reason, or do you like to harass your prisoners periodically?”
Stefan seemed to come to himself. “Oh, right. Of course I came here for a reason. Come into the sitting room.”
Ran-Del followed the Baron into the house. He was curious, if nothing else, and he would prove nothing by refusing to go inside.
“There we are,” Stefan said, gesturing to a small stack of clothing on the end of the sofa. “I didn’t try to provide new shoes yet. We'll need to have you try those on.”
Ran-Del stared at the clothes. There was a shirt of bright blue, trousers in a darker shade of the same color, and undergarments of neutral beige.
“I don’t need them,” Ran-Del said flatly. “And I don’t want them.”
“Try them on,” Stefan urged, just as if Ran-Del hadn’t said anything. “I want to see how they fit. If these are all right, then I’ll get you some more.”
“No.”
“Look,” Stefan said in a conciliating tone, “You can't go around looking like a wild man. If you try these clothes on, and wear them whenever you leave these rooms, then I’ll let you keep your own clothes. If you put up a fight, I’ll have your Sansoussy clothes destroyed, and you’ll have to wear these all the time or go naked. Think about it.”
Ran-Del pondered. One blast from a shock pistol, and he’d be incapable of putting up any resistance. But beyond that, having clothes that made him less remarkable could help him escape, if he could ever get out of Stefan’s house. “All right. I’ll do it.”
Stefan directed him to the bedroom, and offered to help if he needed assistance. Ran-Del declined his offer rudely and then regretted it. It took him several minutes to figure out how to open the shirt, which had neither laces nor buttons. Finally, Ran-Del determined that the front of the shirt came open simply by pulling apart the two sides, which could then be closed again by pressing them firmly together. This information proved useful in unraveling the mystery of how to put on the trousers.
When Ran-Del finally came out of the bedroom, Stefan looked him up and down with satisfaction. “It’s a good fit. I’ll bring you some more outfits. Maybe after you get used to the clothes, we’ll get you some real shoes.”
Ran-Del said nothing. He wasn’t used to wearing such confining garments during summer. His breeches were slashed open on the sides to allow ventilation, but laced together so they still protected his legs from the brush and rough-barked trees in the forest.
“Come along, then,” Stefan said. “I’ll show you the house and a view of the city. You'll feel more comfortable if you can see where you are.”
Ran-Del didn’t comment as he followed Baron Hayden through the sitting room door. They turned left in the narrow room this time, instead of right, and then stepped into a tiny square room with no windows. Once they were all inside, Stefan, Toth, and the other man turned and faced the doorway, so Ran-Del did too, uncertain of why they had come into this small space. Abruptly, the doorway shimmered and that space looked suddenly solid. Ran-Del could feel the floor rising, faster and faster. He looked around wildly. None of the others seemed worried, so Ran-Del hid his panic. Stefan watched him, emanating amusement and concern.
The door shimmered again, then disappeared. Astonished, Ran-Del saw they there were in a totally different place. Instead of a long, narrow room, the doorway opened onto a large, circular chamber with windows all around it and benches and tables placed near the windows. When Ran-Del walked toward the windows, he realized they must be very high up. The bright dome of Haven’s sky glowed golden over them with the city of Shangri-La spread before them like a toy village. Ran-Del stared at the buildings that stretched as far as he could see. Many were tall, although none of the nearby ones were as tall as the tower in which they stood. Some of the distant buildings were even taller than the tower, taller than blackwood trees, so tall that you could stack thirty houses, one of top of each other, and not equal them.
Ran-Del thought about all the people there must be in this city, people he didn’t know and would likely never meet. Each of them had their own concerns, their own problems, their own homes and families. When he looked down, he could see tiny people moving around, and vehicles that seemed to float above the ground. He saw one vehicle rise until it was above the tallest building and fly off through the air like a day bat.
Ran-Del
's mouth went dry. The enormity of the city hit him like a blow to his head. How did they all stand to live here, jammed so close together by such solid walls? How could they grow enough food in such tiny spaces? The air in the room seemed suddenly dead. Ran-Del swayed and felt his heart racing.
“Are you all right?” Stefan’s voice intruded into his awareness.
Intent on the need to bring his body under control, Ran-Del ignored him and began the mantra for the Fourth Discipline. After a few seconds, his surroundings retreated. He felt himself mastering his breathing and his heartbeat, and the comforting feel of samad state washed over him like a healing balm. He had just begun the final mantra when an unpleasant tingling in his arm interfered with his control for just a second, and then suddenly samad state dissolved.
Dizzy from the abrupt loss, Ran-Del staggered. Someone’s hands caught him.
“Ran-Del!” Stefan’s voice insisted. “What's wrong?”
Ran-Del pulled up the sleeve of his new shirt and tugged at the band on his arm. “Take it off! Take it off!”
“Sit down,” Stefan ordered, half dragging him to a bench. “Tell me what happened.”
“I needed the Fourth Discipline,” Ran-Del said. “Seeing so many new things at once distressed me, and I needed to establish control. This cruel thing destroyed samad state for me. Take it off!”
“If the monitor kicked in, it was because your heart rate dropped too low.”
“I wasn’t trying to die,” Ran-Del said angrily. “I needed only to calm myself. Take it off, now!”
“It’s too late,” Stefan said. “Even if I were to take the resuscitator off, the empranimine is already in your system.”
Ran-Del cursed him, calling him names that cast aspersions on his personal habits as well as his ancestry.
Stefan took it well. “That may all be true,” he said cheerfully, “but it won’t change anything. I think it was a mistake to bring you up here with no preparation. I’ll show you around the house a bit, and we’ll come back here another time.”
Ran-Del followed him back into the little square room. They descended this time, and then made their way to another long narrow room. At first Ran-Del was too upset to pay attention as Stefan led the way through room after room, explaining the function of each one. Gradually, Ran-Del began to relax and listen, hoping to learn something that would aid him in an escape.
There were public rooms for receptions and dinners, meeting rooms and offices, and rooms for servants to gather. Finally they entered a vast kitchen.
As in other rooms, people stopped their work, bowing when they saw Baron Hayden and staring curiously at Ran-Del. So this was where the food he had eaten came from? Several people held serviceable knives, but they stood behind tables, and Ran-Del didn’t think he could grab a weapon without being shot.
After the kitchen, Stefan led the way through an imposing entrance hall, and then outside. Ran-Del made the discovery that what Stefan Hayden called his house was actually part of a complex of buildings that could have housed Ran-Del’s entire village. A very high wall surrounded the complex, breached only by a pair of impressive gates, one quite narrow and one wide enough and tall enough for vehicles. The two people on duty at the gates wore identical gray clothes and carried two weapons each. Ran-Del felt a growing desolation as he thought about how hard it would be to get out of this place unseen.
Stefan seemed unaware of Ran-Del’s mood. He led the way past a large, formal garden at the front of the house to a kennel where his guard dogs lived. The Sansoussy kept dogs to help them hunt. Ran-Del owned one himself, but Buster was much smaller than these massive animals. Ran-Del stared at the huge, shaggy beasts lolling in the shade of the kennel, their long pink tongues hanging from their mouths, and thought they looked very strange. He said so to Baron Hayden.
“They’re a hybrid,” Stefan said. “The animals you call dogs are a species native to Haven. The early colonists domesticated them, and my ancestors created hybrids by mixing their genetic material with that of a Terran species called a dog. That’s why these dogs are so much bigger and have more fur. Your dogs are more suited to the forest.”
“I don’t understand your answer,” Ran-Del said.
“You’ll learn with time.” Stefan said.
Ran-Del didn’t comment. Trapped as he was, he had no choice but to learn.
From the kennel they walked around the compound while Stefan pointed out several other buildings, including a barracks for his guards and a school for his employees’ children. Ran-Del said very little. Even landscaped with trees and grass and shrubbery, the complex felt very different from the forest. Ran-Del found it difficult to absorb so many new faces and new places at once, especially because he didn’t want to see them. By the time Stefan led the way back to his quarters, Ran-Del was almost glad to be there.
Stefan scrutinized him as they walked into the sitting room. “You look a little worn down. Why don’t you rest until they bring your lunch tray?”
“I’m not hungry,” Ran-Del said curtly, and kept walking into the bedroom, leaving the city dwellers behind.
He lay down on the bed, then heard the sitting room door open and shut as Stefan and the guards left. A little while later, the door trilled and then opened again. Ran-Del heard soft footfalls and then the door opened and closed again very swiftly. He deduced that someone had brought another food tray.
The effects of the drug hadn’t worn off; Ran-Del still couldn’t meditate. After a few minutes of staring angrily at the ceiling, he got up and prowled the room looking for something to smash the device on his arm. When he found nothing in the bedroom, he stepped through to the sitting room.
There was nothing useful there, either, but when the bedroom door opened Ran-Del paused to consider the door frame. It seemed quite solid, and it was fairly narrow. He stepped into the doorway and hit his arm as hard as he could against the frame of the door. He did this over and over, and after a while his arm felt considerably bruised but the device looked just the same. Frustrated, Ran-Del struck the door frame a hard blow one last time.
“What the hell are you doing?” a voice said behind him.
Ran-Del jumped. He had been so absorbed in his despair that he hadn’t heard Francesca enter the room or even sensed her presence. He turned reluctantly, aware that his face reflected a lack of control.
“What the hell were you doing?” Francesca repeated.
“I was trying to get this evil thing off of my arm.” Ran-Del glanced around, surprised that she was alone. “You’re not supposed to be here by yourself.” Another thought struck him. “Why did the door not make that peculiar sound?”
She smiled smugly, pleased with herself. “Pop took my palm print out of the security system for the door, so I had to do a little creative software engineering to get in.”
He didn’t understand any of her answer except that she knew enough about the machine that opened the door to make it do what she wanted. “Could you make it open for me?”
“I suppose I could, but I won’t.”
He gave an angry cry and pounded the wall with his fist.
“You have quite a temper,” she said.
He was in front of her in two strides, his hands around her neck without his even thinking about it. It was only when he felt her blood pulsing under his fingers that he came to his senses. He stood, frozen, holding her neck in his hands, burning with rage but unable to move.
She stood quite still, with her eyes almost closed and her head tilted back, as if to make it easy for him to choke her. The only sign of distress she displayed was the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing increased.
It came to Ran-Del that if he forced himself upon Stefan Hayden's daughter, he could achieve both revenge and the release of death at one stroke. Stefan Hayden had promised death for hurting her, and Ran-Del knew he meant it.
Francesca opened her eyes and looked up at him. Ran-Del read pity in her gaze, and he knew he couldn’t do it. Not even h
is hatred for Stefan Hayden could make him shame himself so thoroughly. He let her go and turned away.
She stepped close behind him and touched his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry we’ve hurt you so much, and I’m sorry you’re so miserable here. I’ll try to get you out of it if I can.”
He turned back to her, suddenly hopeful. He might not know anything about the city, but she did, and she spoke truthfully. “Can you?”
“I don’t know. Pop is pretty set on this course.”
The hand on his shoulder had fallen when he turned. He took it now and held it for a moment. “Thank you.”
She didn’t pull away, but she shook her head. “Don’t thank me. We had no right to take you away like that. Our troubles are none of your concern.”
“What troubles?”
She shook her head again. As if to distract him, she twisted her hand free from his and touched the beads on his caste bracelet. “Does this mean something or is it strictly for decoration?”
He smiled at her ignorance. Even little children knew more than she did. “It shows who I am.” He counted off the beads as he spoke. “The black ones are for my ancestors. This one is for my father; it’s silver instead of black because he has passed on. This one is for his father, and this one is for his father.”
“Why does the last one have a design on it?”
“Because Great-grandfather is a shaman. He’s the leader of my clan.” Ran-Del touched the carved stone. “This is my clan marker, the Falling Water People. These three are to show my family, the Jahanpur, and the red one is to show that I’m a warrior.”
Her forehead creased in concern, “What does that mean?”
He looked at her, astonished. “You don’t know what a warrior is?”
“Of course I know, generally,” she said, sounding irritated. “But what does it mean to be a Sansoussy warrior. Do you make a living killing people?”
“No,” he said sternly, offended by the question. “All my people hunt and plant crops to put food on our tables. We fight to defend ourselves. The Horde from the mountains attack us, and there are rogue bands—men cast out from their clans. But no one has successfully attacked my village since my great-grandfather has been our leader.”
She looked as confused as he had felt when Stefan tried to explain about the barrier over the wall. “But he must be very old, surely? How can he lead your warriors?”
Ran-Del shook his head. “A shaman is never allowed to fight. But he warns us when the village is in danger of attack. The women and the older men take the children away to hide in the woods, and the warriors wait to ambush those who come to attack us.”
She still seemed a little disturbed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
He nodded. “A warrior bead is only awarded to those who have killed an enemy.”
She shivered, a convulsive reflex that she clearly couldn't control.
Ran-Del studied her expression, trying to read her feelings with his psy talent, but all that came across was a general feeling of unease. “Don’t you have warriors here in the city?”
“Not unless you count people like our security staff. It’s just—it’s just that I’m not used to the idea that you could be proud of killing someone.”
Did she think wearing a red bead was a form of bragging? “It’s not a question of pride,” he said, stiffly. “It’s part of who I am, just like my family and my ancestors.” He touched the glass bead on his bracelet, turning it so that the swirls of darker color spun around. Psy beads were purchased from peddlers, and only village elders were allowed to buy them. “This shows that I have a psy gift, even if it’s only a small one. That’s part of me, too, and I don’t brag about it.”
She stared down at the bead in alarm. “Does that mean that you can read minds?”
He shook his head. “My gift isn’t that strong. Great-grandfather can see into almost anyone’s mind if they’re close enough. Grandfather got much of his talent, and my father, also, but it’s weaker in me. I can sense feelings—deception, sincerity, anger, pain—but I can’t read anyone’s thoughts.”
She pulled away from him. “I have to go now. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help you get home.”
He didn’t thank her, since she had instructed him not to, but he held her hand between both of his hands for a moment in a kinsman’s farewell.
After she had gone, he stood at the window looking into the garden. A sudden summer storm came up. The wind lashed black, angry clouds, pushing them along at a tremendous speed. The rain started, and poured down in torrents, drenching the stone benches and bushes of the garden. In the deep woods, such a storm would be felt ahead of time, and everyone would seek cover. If the wind was strong enough, the rain would come in the walls of the houses, leaking through the seams that stitched together the huge hides of timber cats and other animals.
Ran-Del stood with his hands pressed against the window staring into the rain. After a long time, he let his mind empty of everything except the mantra for the First Discipline. Gratefully, he felt his body respond to his mind’s prompting, and he knew the empranimine had worn off. He opened the door to the outside, and then stepped out into the downpour. He sat on the wet grass and began the mantra again, feeling samad state join with the rain in washing over his body.
The Sixth Discipline Page 10