“You know it better than I do, tech. Take a look.”
“I can’t say for sure, but seems to me it’s a lot like the anomaly.”
Ilaцrn stopped his fidgeting a moment and smiled at the sullen resentment in the tech’s voice.
“O Ykkuval, if you will permit, an eyeprint will authorize adding this pattern to the Library. Then we’ll see if the anomalies remain.”
“Do it.”
Them watched with interest as a curious helmet was brought from a locked cupboard, clamped on Hunnar’s head, a lead plugged into the kephalos. Now, he thought. Do it now.
He slipped the strap of the harp off his shoulder, set the instrument on the floor. Chel Dй bless, old friend. After a last caress on the smooth live wood, he took the spore packets from his sleeve and tore them open. Holding the packets between little finger and fourth finger, he slipped the sheaths off the air-gun darts.
Expelling the breath he’d been holding, he cast the spores in the face of the kephalos, leaped forward, drove one dart into Hunnar’s neck and the second into his own.
19. Fire in the Sky
1
Shadith took another length of rope from the storage bin, tied it to a strut on the front seat. She tossed the free end over the limb, looked down at Marrin in his blanket sling. “You ready?”
His hands were hooked around the crudely tied net that helped support the sling, his face was gray-green with pain, shiny with sweat. “No.” His mouth squeezed into a thin, wry smile. “Get this going, hm. The sooner it’s over, the sooner I can faint.”
She made a face at him and swung out over the thorn patch, careful to land on her good foot. She tottered a moment, then picked up the staff she’d cut from one of the trees and shaped into a crutch of sorts. She used it to bring the sling rope to her, tossed the staff up to Marrin and carried the rope end to the tethered cow grazer, one of the pair the spy had used as camouflage. She fastened it to the harness she’d improvised from rope and strips of padding, pulled the knot loose on the tether and spent a moment scratching the curly black poll while she tightened her hold on the cow’s impulses. It wasn’t a full mindride, she wasn’t looking out through grazer eyes, but she could prod her into moving where she wanted, at the precise speed and direction. She straightened, called, “Ready to go, Marrin. Yell if you get snagged.”
The grazer leaned into the harness and step by step hauled Marrin from the crashed flier. When he was swinging free and had the staff ready to shove himself clear of the thorn patch, she called again, “Ready?”
He grunted, set the end of the staff against the trunk. “Ready.”
Shadith clucked to the grazer, got her to take an awkward step backward, then another and another. The cow mooawwed her displeasure and shook her head angrily. She didn’t like backing up, she didn’t like the rubbing and pressure from the harness, but it only needed half a dozen steps to lower Marrin gently to the ground and the job was done before she balked and wouldn’t move again even with Shadith’s mind-tickling.
After a last scratch of the curly poll, Shadith used her belt knife to cut the rope off the harness, then the harness off the beast. “My thanks, lady.” She patted the cow on the flank and watched her run off, heading back for the ambush-clearing and her calf.
As Shadith hobbled wearily back to Marrin, she saw the Chav watching her. Before she moved out of sight round the bulge of the thorn patch, she gave him a broad smile that she hoped irritated him intensely.
She squatted beside Marrin. “How you doing?”
“I have been better.”
“Well, let’s get you in the tent. Then I’ll see if I can get hold of our rescue service.”
“What about the spy?”
“He’s contemplating cloud drift right now. No doubt plotting like mad and waiting for an opening to set those plots going.”
“Don’t leave him alone long, Shadow.” He tried to lift himself and help her move him but his arms had no strength left and there wasn’t even a twitch in his legs. “I’m no use.”
“Feeling sorry for yourself, are you? Hmp. You’ll be fine once we get you in the ottodoc at the ’Clave.”
He smiled up at her. “And we can be sure the Goлs will come for us. We’ve got his proof.”
“Sorry and cynical.” She chuckled. “And very right. Brace yourself. I’m going to have to slide you along on the blanket and it won’t be comfortable.”
“I am a Scholar with a Scholar’s constraints. And while I sympathize deeply, your people are not my people, this is not a fight I have any business joining.” Aslan spoke slowly, with a weightiness that made her cringe a little; but she wanted no mistakes about what she was saying. “I can suggest this, treat with the Goлs Koraka hoeh Dexios. He will probably provide transport and medical services-but the price he’ll ask for these is something that you might not want to pay. He will not sell you weapons.”
They were in a sun-filled tree-shaded patio with Eolt graspers on the eaves and a fountain playing gently in the center, water from a hotspring below the blai shooting at intervals into high jets but mostly bubbling up, then dripping musically from bowl to bowl and into a small stream that vanished under a wall. Aslan found the humid heat uncomfortable, but the Eolt and the Denchok who’d come to talk with her seemed cozy enough.
Daizil Voice for the Earth leaned into the speaking tentacle of Bladechel Voice for the Air. After a moment, xe sighed and straightened. “Why? We fight the same enemy.”
“The Goлs is not a warrior, he’s a trader. He takes the long view. Which is that what you use to defeat the enemy will be turned on him once the enemy is gone.”
Again the two Voices consulted, then Daizil said, “Ard Danor implied that if the Chandavasi triumph, they will be harvesting Eolt on Banikoлh also. Do you think this is likely?”
“Once this is a sealed world, yes. There will be no place for Eolt or any other Bйluchar to hide from them?’
“And there will be no help from outside. They take what they want.”
“There will be protests from University, but yes. Without witnesses to raise their voices in protest and start a campaign against the Chandavasi, essentially no help.”
“And you?”
“The Chave are not likely to leave witnesses from outside, especially those who know how to make their stories heard. This is a world visited by smugglers and free traders. There would always be a chance one of us might escape.”
“I see. So your fate depends on our deeds.”
“To some extent, yes.”
“And still you’re unwilling to do more than advise.”
“To be a credible witness-which will be of greater use to you than my own inadequate fighting skills, I can do no more.”
“There is no chance of talking with the Chandavasi?”
“I would never say don’t talk. I would also say that their history as I know it doesn’t indicate a willingness to listen.”
“I see. Would you use your communicators to speak to the Goлs for us, should we decide that is what we will do?”
“Yes. You must do your own bargaining, however.”
“That is understood.” Daizil smiled at her. “We know traders, Scholar. We have many of our own.”
3
The sound shook the building, a great deep note that resonated in Aslan’s bones. She’d been stretched out on the bed, eyes closed to facilitate memory, sub-vocalizing a report to herself, getting down impressions, questions she needed to ask and anything else that occurred to her. She sat up, startled, removed the throatmike and went outside to see what was happening.