The Sixth Discipline
Page 82
Chapter Twenty-one
From atop a small rise of land, Ran-Del studied the southwestern horizon. The russet and gold prairie grasses waved gently in a light breeze, under the golden dome of a nearly cloudless sky. When he turned around to face northeast, he could see the small farming town that bordered Shangri-La, a cluster of only a few dozen houses surrounded by fields and barns.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you, Ran-Del?” Fiona Geldorf asked, the breeze ruffling her short black hair as she squinted against the sun. “It seems pretty foolish to come out here all by yourself after what happened before.”
Ran-Del could feel her worry, but caught none of it himself. “If you were an assassin intent on murdering someone who’d been warned by a previous attempt, would you expect him to travel on foot all the way from Shangri-La to the Sansoussy forest?”
She made a face. “You’re saying it’s safe because it’s so crazy, no one would anticipate it?”
When Ran-Del nodded, she shook her head with disgust.
Gilmartin, the other guard, said nothing. Ran-Del could see in his mind that he was eager for the Sansoussy to be out of sight so he could call for a skimmer to pick them up.
Ran-Del decided to give him his wish. He slipped on his pack, picked up his bow and quiver, and started out with a wave of his hand. He set an easy pace, to reassure Francesca when Geldorf reported back to her. He ran easily, every step feeling closer to freedom. Even his Sansoussy clothes felt less constraining.
His pack contained the amenities Francesca had persuaded him to take, including an electronic compass and a tiny portable stove. Those two items and a portable com were the only obvious high tech objects he carried other than the food that Francesca’s staff had provided.
When he made camp that night and read the instructions on the disk-shaped packet, he realized it was intended not only to preserve the food, but to heat and reconstitute it. When he pulled a small tab on the disk, it expanded to a full-sized plate of hot food in just seconds. It wasn’t as good as the food Francesca’s cooks prepared, but it was much better than dried trail rations. Pulling a second tab set off a decomposition that assured that the waste Ran-Del buried would return to the soil in a short time.
The next day Ran-Del put on his Sansoussy clothes, packed his things and set out. He kept to the same pace, not pushing himself too much. His mind began to heal. Without a constant barrage of other people’s thoughts and perceptions to distract him and make it difficult for him to think, he felt like himself again.
He let his thoughts roam free as he ran, letting himself feel the wind on his face, the sun on his shoulders, and at the same time reflecting on his life—what had happened to him, what he done in response. It came to him that he wasn’t the same man who had stepped into Stefan Hayden’s trap. Not only had his psy gift changed, but his ideas and perceptions of the world were now completely different. It took him some time to decide that he could still call himself a Sansoussy.