Ivale hesitated for a moment, as if testing the seriousness of her order. Then he turned away from her and gestured toward the floor. "Sit, sit," he said to the artifacts. "You are in the hands of the Nameless. What else can touch you here?"
The artifacts did as they were told. They settled themselves next to the wall, wrapping their ragged clothing around them. They set the juveniles on their laps or took them in their arms. One began to croon a soft, wordless song to an infant. Beside them, the analysis tank began a steady humming, indicating that the Beholden had gotten the generators successfully hooked up.
Avir couldn't work out why she was staring at them.
"Skyman!"
Avir tore her gaze away from the artifacts. Drawing herself up into a properly poised stance, she pushed past the poorly woven blanket that covered the threshold and stepped onto the flagstone veranda.
A new group of artifacts filled the street below the crude, stone steps. Unlike the crowds that had been there earlier, these stood in relatively straight lines. They had hats of beaten metal covering their heads. In their midst, a smallish female who had been tattooed in red around her face and jaw sat on the back of one of the oxen used as beasts of burden. The shadow from the tether fell across her, creating a broad, black stripe over her chest.
Avir remembered her briefing. This was, in all probability, Silver on the Clouds, the King or leader of this area's social grouping.
"See how they come when called!" Silver on the Clouds shouted, standing in the ox's stirrups. "They know who they are! Skymen!"
But even from where she stood, Avir could see the fear in the King's eyes. Just like she saw in all the others. Endless, reasonless fear.
"You doubt we are the Nameless?" Avir let her voice ring across the plaza. "You are alone, King Silver. The Temples and the Teachers know us."
"The Teachers are fools!" Silver on the Clouds snorted. "They always have been! You are nothing but Skymen with tricks and lies. Narroways is still my city, Skyman! If you do not leave it on your own, we will drive you over the World's Wall and into the maw of the Aunorante Sangh!
"You have until the next sunshowing!"
Taking her words as their cue, the helmeted artifacts raised their weapons and began to retreat, one step at a time. Silver backed her ox up to stay in the middle of them. No one tried to stop them as they disappeared between the ramshackle buildings.
Avir felt something whither inside her. I should have let Ivale do this. I don't know how to handle them. I don't know what to do. This is not what I'm trained for. This is not what anybody here is trained for.
The remaining artifacts stared up at her with their wide eyes. They were waiting for her to do something miraculous to prove that she really was a daughter of the Ancestors. But she had no proof to offer.
Avir glowered at the herd of artifacts, suddenly furious. They all leaned a bit closer together and ducked their heads in the face of her anger. Avir knew they were not to blame for their own ignorance, but knowing that did not help calm her.
Her translator disk beeped. "Contractor," said Ivale's voice, "there is a transmission from the Reclamation Assembly that requires your attention."
Avir touched her disk to acknowledge him, and, with as much dignity as she could muster, she retreated behind the blanket.
Ivale watched her a little too closely as she crossed the chamber. Did he see the hollowness inside her? She thought she had her face properly expressionless, but she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything right now.
She reached the active comm screen and faced a single Contractor, immaculate in his seamless black robe. Avir suddenly remembered how rumpled and ash-spattered she was.
"Allow me to hand you my name, Contractor." He had elected to be as bald as an Ambassador and yet as brown as an artifact. Avir wondered what had motivated the juxtaposition. "I am Contractor Cynleah Laefhur, of the Fust Core, and Senior Contractor to the Reclamation Assembly. We have news that will affect your division."
His quiet, steady voice went straight through Avir , soothing her instantly. She wanted to lean toward the screen and drink in his voice, as a reminder of what she ought to be.
"Bio-technician Uary has confessed himself to be an Imperialist and has volunteered the location of the Unifier base just outside your division. One of their operators is Jahidh of the Grand Errand. He has been transmitting information about the Home Ground to his Imperialist contacts for four years."
Blood of my ancestors, Avir staggered. There's been an Imperialist on the Home Ground for FOUR YEARS? Avir felt her breathing go harsh and shallow. "Where is he now?" she croaked. "Do we know that?"
"These are your orders, Contractor Avir," said Laefhur. "You will investigate the Unifiers' finds. You will not waste resources hunting for Jahidh."
"Contractor," Avir drew her shoulders back. This man might hold a senior ranking and an Assembly seat, but he did not hold her name. "How can…"
"We want him free to continue his researches," said the Contractor. "He has made great contributions to the understanding of the artifacts. As long as he believes he is undetected, he will continue to do so. The Witnesses will take charge of him if he oversteps the bounds the Assembly has laid down on his conduct."
Avir could not force a single word out of her throat.
"It is the Reclamation that is important, Contractor. We must not lose time because of lack of skilled hands."
And it must not be seen that the Assembly allowed Imperialists to slip through their notice. Resolve hardened inside her. "I can make this my work and I will," she said, giving a properly deep obeisance.
Laefhur's image was gone by the time she straightened up. Avir realized her hands had curled into fists. Her mind was already racing. Transportation would have to be acquired from the Acquisitions committee, and a security team contracted. The Unifiers' base would have to be thoroughly explored and cataloged. Extra personnel would certainly be needed once the initial survey of the base was complete.
She would obey her orders, but communication with the artifacts was still at an uncertain stage. Everyone was aware of that. It was well documented and witnessed. If they did not understand they were to cease their search for one particular Skyman, that, surely, was not her fault.
Jay cast another glance at Heart of the Seablade. The Teacher hunched in front of the fire watching the flames in a way that suggested he did not like what he saw. Jay shivered as the wind blew through the tent flaps and, for the hundredth time, he cursed the necessity of bringing the Teacher along. Heart had too many distractions inside his head to allow Jay to predict the outcome of his thoughts. But they needed a Teacher to help bring the Notouch into line in case Cor's efforts at persuasion were not totally successful, so Jay needed Heart.
Years of practiced acting allowed Jay to put a concerned tone in his voice. "What is it you are worried about now, Teacher?"
Heart picked up a cold lump of charcoal from the meager stack that was their night's supply of fuel. "My wife was in the High House when they came down, Messenger. What will they do to her?"
Be patient. You need him to keep the Notouch in line. Say it again. Jay wrapped his poncho a little closer around him. "Nothing, Heart. She's valuable to them. You all are. That's what's buying us this time." That and King Silver's pride.
"I do hold her in my regard, Messenger." Heart pitched the charcoal onto the flames. The fire hissed and a flurry of sparks danced above the flames. "She is so unwavering…I fear they will grow impatient with her."
Jay considered laying a hand on the man's shoulder, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. "I know these people, Heart. They're born patient. They cannot be rushed. I once…" His translator disk beeped.