Gateway

by Sharon Shinn

  He could not have said anything more calculated to catch Daiyu’s interest. Maybe he knew that; maybe he had studied her life and her family before he found a way to get that dragon ring onto her finger. Oddly enough, that made her begin to distrust him, an emotion that resided uneasily beside her ongoing disbelief. “But what can I do to stop him?” she said.

  “You merely need to place a bracelet on his wrist,” Ombri said.

  Daiyu stared at him. It was the last thing she had expected him to say. “Couldn’t anybody do that?” she said.

  “Nobody can get close to him,” Kalen muttered.

  “A select few are admitted into his presence,” Ombri explained. “None of them are cangbai, like Kalen, or heiren, like me.”

  Heiren,Daiyu thought. Mustmeanblack.

  Ombri was still talking. “Chenglei only associates with Han—and Han of a certain social circle. If we can insinuate you into that circle, you will inevitably be introduced to him. You will place the bracelet on his wrist, and he will be flung back to the original template of the universe.”

  “That doesn’t sound so hard,” Daiyu said. “So why do you think I might be in danger?”

  “If Chenglei discovers who you are, he will be—displeased.”

  Daiyu widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows, but she didn’t really want a description of what Chenglei might do to her to express his displeasure. She guessed punishment and torture were pretty much the same from world to world.

  “That is why we want you to have the talisman,” Ombri continued.“So that if you ever feel threatened, you can instantly transport yourself to home and safety. We would then look for some other sojourner who is young and Chinese and potentially able to introduce herself to Chenglei.”

  “Is he Chinese?” she asked.

  “Part Chinese, part cangbai,” Ombri said. “Here on Jia, he pretends to be full-blooded Han.”

  “When I came through the gate,” Daiyu said slowly, “everyone I saw was Han.”

  Ombri nodded. “In this iteration, it is the Han who colonized the Western hemisphere, not the nations you know as Europe. The races are not absolutely identical from world to world, but you will fit in with the Han. You will be accepted. The language they speak will deviate a bit from what you understand as Chinese—”

  “I don’t speak Chinese,” Daiyu said, putting up her fingers to rub her temples. Her head was beginning to swim; it was too much information to take in all at once. “I don’t think I can hear one more detail,” she said. “Is there someplace I can lie down? I’m so tired.”

  “Of course. It was discourteous of me to talk so long,” Ombri said, rising to his feet. He gestured at Kalen, who jumped up. “It is difficult for any ordinary human being to make the transition between worlds—it takes a great physical toll, and exhaustion is commonplace. We have prepared a room against your arrival. Sleep as long as you like.”

  She glanced around again, embarrassed to ask about a bathroom in front of two men. “Is there—a place to clean up first?”

  “Of course. Kalen, please acquaint her with the amenities.”

  The small room that Kalen showed her to looked enough like the facilities Daiyu was used to that he didn’t have to explain the faucets or the rather strange toilet, which was more like an open-bottomed throne contained behind a low enamel wall. It was quickly clear that there was no such thing as a toothbrush, but Kalen demonstrated how she should use her finger and some gritty paste to scrub her teeth, and the soap was completely familiar.

  “Aurora left you some clothes,” Kalen said al ittle awkwardly as he stepped out of the small room into the hallway. “She was just guessing what might fit you, but—Should I bring them in?”

  “Is there something for me to sleep in?” Daiyu asked.

  “A nightshirt. Let me get it.”

  He disappeared and returned moments later with a voluminous blue shirt made of some soft, brushed material. “It’s kind of big,” he said with a grin, holding it up by the shoulders.

  She smiled as she took it from his hands. “I’ll probably be all tangled up in it by morning. Thank you, though.”

  He lingered in the doorway as if he wanted to say something else. She raised her eyebrows in inquiry. “I just—I don’t want you to be afraid, ”he said. “Here in such a strange place. Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”

  Bring me that talisman that will send me straight home, she thought. “I don’t think so.”

  He pointed toward the main room. “I’ll be sleeping right out there. If you wake up in the middle of the night and you need something—or you hear a sound that frightens you—come get me. Or just call my name. I’ll hear you. I’ll be there in a second.”

  His sweet earnestness made her smile again. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Good night.”

  Twenty minutes later, she was clean, wrapped in the oversized shirt, and stretched out on a thick mattress on the floor of a tiny room. The mat was surprisingly comfortable, especially since it was augmented with piles of pillows. The window was open, and some of the scents coming through were familiar and reassuring, while others were utterly strange.

  Daiyu snuggled her head on one of the pillows and thought, I will wake up in the morning and I will be in my own bed. And I will call my father and say, “Daddy, I have just had the strangest dream.” Everything will be fine in the morning. I’ll be home.

  FIVE

  THE SMELL OF cooking tickled her nose, and Daiyu turned over in bed, trying to figure out what her father was making for breakfast. Something flavorful, maybe sausages. She was starving.

  She opened her eyes and immediately lost her appetite.

  She was on the low mattress in the small room in the white stone building where she had arrived the previous night. If she was still dreaming, it was the longest and most detailed dream she had ever had.

  Clothes had been laid out for her across a stool—a red top and wide-legged black pants, as well as a pair of black cloth ballet flats that didn’t look all that different from her Skechers. She scooped them up and scooted into the bathroom before anyone could see her. Once she had dressed and combed out her hair, she felt a little more prepared to face the day. There didn’t seem to be a proper mirror in this place, but a shiny chrome square hanging on the bathroom wall gave her a wavering reflection. Her chin-length black hair seemed lustrous as always, her dark eyes thoughtful and measuring. Her face was deceptively serene, belying her inner disquiet.

  She took a deep breath. If she could make her interior match her exterior, she might yet sail through this adventure without a total meltdown.

  She stepped out into the main room of the house. “What’s for breakfast?” she asked.

  Kalen was the only other person home, and he turned from the kitchen to give her a hopeful smile. “How did you sleep? How are you feeling?”

  “I slept wonderfully and I feel pretty good,” Daiyu said, settling at the table. “But I’m still... well, it’s all pretty weird, youknow.”

  “I know,” he said. “Or, at least, I guess. It must be even stranger for you than it was for me.” He brought over a casserole pan holding what looked like potatoes and eggs and crumbled bits of meat. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving,” she said. “Do I eat with my fingers or what?”

  He laughed and fetched flat wooden boards that served as plates and large spoons that appeared to be the only eating utensils. Juice completed the meal—definitely not orange juice, but something pulpy and sweet, and Daiyu gulped it down—and for a few moments they ate in companionable silence.

  Then Daiyu remembered what he’d just said. “What do you mean about things being strange for you, too?” she asked. “Aren’t you one of them? A servant to the gods and all that?”

  He laughed. “Me? Hardly. I’m just a cangbai workingman.”

  She gestured around the room. “So this is your world? Jia?” When he nodded, she said, “How did you meet up with Ombri and his frie
nd?”

  “Ombri and I were both stonepickers on the river, and we talked now and then while we were working. One day he said he and his wife wanted to buy a house, but they’d have to rent out a room to be able to afford it. Did I want to be a boarder? I was living in a tent at the time, and winter was coming, so I didn’t even think about it. I just said yes.”

  Daiyu filed away the question about what a stonepicker was. “How did you know they wouldn’t steal your stuff?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t have any stuff. I wasn’t risking much.”

  Daiyu propped her chin on her hand and looked him over. She had originally thought he just had a slim build, but now that she paid more attention, she could see that his was the slenderness of lifelong hunger. His face was bony, his wrists thin; his eyes were kind because they had looked upon a lot of misery and empathized with pain.

  “What’s your story? ”she said presently. “Where’s your fam- ily?”

  He shrugged again. “My father was never around. My mother died when I was little,” he said. “I’ve been on my own most of my life.” He grinned. “Meeting Ombri and Aurora is about the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “Well, it’s certainly been exciting for me so far too,” Daiyu said dryly. She hesitated and then said, “I have to admit, even after this morning, when I woke up and I was still here, I’m having a hard time believing that anything Ombri said was true.”

  “This is where I’ve lived my whole life, so I can’t really judge,” Kalen said. “But you seem to think you’re somewhere that you didn’t expect to be. So you tell me. Is this a different world?”

  “Going by what I saw last night, yes,” she said. “But I just don’t know how that could be possible. ”She gave him a straight look. “What did they tell you to make you believe that they were from another universe?”

  “To tell you the truth,” he said, “at first I didn’t believe them. But I didn’t care. They were generous and they were thoughtful and they made sure I had enough to eat. If they wanted to pretend they were sent here by the gods, it didn’t matter to me.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  He tapped his flat wooden plate with the bowl of his spoon. “Little things. Ombri can see in the dark. Aurora knows when the weather is going to change. And—like he told you last night—they’re both able to read people as if they can see the thoughts in their heads. It’s like nothing in this world is mysterious to them. I find that pretty convincing.”

  “So what did they tell you about why they came here?”

  “Pretty much what Ombri told you last night. That they wanted to find a way to send Chenglei back to his own iteration.”

  She toyed with her spoon. “And did that make you—curious? Uneasy? Did you wonder why they should have the right to decide who gets to live here and who has to go home?”

  Kalen just looked at her, his expressions tartled. “Not really,” he said at last. “I’ve come to trust them, so I believe they have good reasons for what they want to do.”

  Daiyu nodded and let it drop, though her own uneasiness remained. She glanced around. “So where is Ombri now? And Aurora?”

  “I don’t know, but I think they’ll both be back by dinner tonight.” He gave her a tentative smile. “So what would you like to do today? If you’re feeling rested enough to leave the house—”

  Rested and deeply curious.“Iam,”she said.“Why don’t you show me your world?”

  By daylight, Kalen’s neighborhood didn’t look any more impressive than it had by twilight. Daiyu followed him to a rundownintersection, where they hailed another of those clattering trolleys. This one held riders who were mostly whites and blacks—cangbai and heiren—and was even more crowded thant he one the night before. When the trolley made a ninety- degree turn, Daiyu realized that they were on a broad avenue that was parallel to the river. If this had been the Mississippi, they would be heading north away from Soulard, a district that had been built a century ago to house the working poor. . . .

  “Hey,” she said, “I think you live really close to where I live back on Earth.” Her voice trailed off. “That is so weird.”

  “Ombri said there would be a lot of points in common be tween our worlds.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think that I’d be staying in practically the same neighborhood where I live back home.”

  Kalen smiled down at her. “Does that make you feel a little better?” he asked. “Like you’re where you’re supposed to be?”

  She couldn’t help a slight laugh. “Kalen,” she said, “nothing will make me feel like this is where I belong.”

  Once Daiyu was oriented to the river, though, she did start to develop a better sense of how Shenglang was laid out, which made her more cheerful. They disembarked from the trolley within sight of the red gate and slowly strolled toward the river, their shoes crunching over the yin-and-yang pattern of the decorative stone mosaic. The riverfront was crowded with workers hauling cargo to and from small boats and idle onlookers watching the water slip by. A steady stream of pedestrians crossedaseriesofnarrowbridgesthatledfromtheeasternside of the river, where the land appeared to be dense with houses, vehicles, and commercial buildings. Daiyu thought it might be even more populous than the city on this side of the river.

  She automatically looked north, where she would have expected the symmetrical scallops of Eads Bridge to connect Missouri and Illinois. Instead there was a high, thick structure spanning the river that looked like a combination dam and sluice. Three monstrous gates had been lifted from the central portion of the bridge so that water streamed unimpeded past the remaining supports, carrying the occasional boat on its surface. Daiyu guessed that when the gates were lowered, the river slowly filled up behind the dam. She couldn’t imagine why.

  She looked up at Kalen. “Okay. This is where you explain everything you’ve said about working on the river.”

  He guided her toward a stone bench that overlooked the water. She settled beside him and was grateful for the erratic breeze that wandered off the river. It wasn’t even noon yet, and already the day was heating up.

  “The Zhongbu River washes down from mountain ranges way up north,” he said. “It brings all sorts of minerals and stones with it—particularly qiji gems.”

  “What gems?”

  “Qiji,”he repeated. It sounded like he was saying scheet-schee. He went on, “The word means ‘miracle.’ Whenever they dam the river, stonepickers—like me—wade out into the muck and pick up every stone we think might be a qiji—”

  “You mean you can’t tell?” Daiyu interrupted.

  He shook his head. “In their raw state they look like any common river rock. So we bag up as many as we can, and we take them to the vendors to be tested, and they pay us for the ones we find.”

  “How many qiji gems do you find on an average day?” she asked.

  “Maybe two. A good day would be five.”

  She appraised him. “And I’m guessing two stones don’t pay all that well.”

  “Enough to live on,” he said.

  “How often do they dam the river?”

  “Usually two or three times a week.” He pointed at a rickety tower set about ten yards back from the river. It looked like a lighthouse made of scaffolding, but at the very top, instead of a light, Daiyu could see a huge bronze bell. She glanced across the river to see its twin on the eastern bank. Kalen said,“They ring the big bells the night before so all the stonepickers know to come work the next morning.”

  “And how long does the dam hold? Because I’d think that the water would start pouring over pretty fast.”

  “Generally you get about half a day. But when it’s time to get out, they ring the small bells—you probably can’t see them from here. The whole time you’re working, you’re listening for that sound, because they wait till the last possible moment to send the signal. Sometimes there’s already water spilling over the top of the dam.”

  “I think I’d b
e working as close to the riverbank as I could!”

  He shook his head. “Most qiji gems can be found in the middleoftheriver.You’d starve if you only worked the shallow ends.”

  “I’d probably starve anyway if I was stranded in this world,” Daiyu said under her breath.

  “Not now that I’ve found you,” he returned with a smile.

  A young cangbai man about Kalen’s age had approached whiletheytalked.“Hey,Kalen,”hesaid.“Can’tstayawayfrom the river, can you?”

  “Neithercanyou,”Kalensaid,grinning.Theystoodup,and Kalen made introductions. “Gabe, this is Daiyu. She’s a friend from another city.”

  She saw Gabe give her a quick appraisal, note her Chinese heritage, and decide that she couldn’t be wealthy Han or she wouldn’t be with Kalen. He gave her a conditional smile.

  “How long are you here visiting?” he asked.

  “I’m not really sure yet,” she replied.

  Gabe’s smile widened a little. “You could go stonepicking with Kalen next time they shut off the river. You wouldn’t have tobenervous.I’d make sure the bells called you back before the river ran free.”

  “Gabe’s the ringer on this side of the river,” Kalen explained.

  Gabe turned to Daiyu, his eyes alight. “Hey, you want to see the bells?”

  She glanced at the open tower. “I can see them. The big one, anyway.”

  “No, I mean up close. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  She looked at Kalen, who nodded an affirmative, so she said, “Why not?”

  It was a short walk to the bell tower but it was a long climb to the top, up a truly terrifying set of circular metal steps that spiraled around the outside of the scaffold. “Are these safe?” Daiyu demanded as she took her first few steps behind Gabe. She clung to the rail, convinced that the whole tower had just swayed under their combined weight.

  “Sure, of course they are,” Gabe said. “Just make sure you hold on.”

  So, fighting vertigo the whole way, Daiyu slowly followed him up. The top portion of the tower was almost a room, with a half wall, a roof, and a narrow catwalk circling the interior to serveasafloor. It was barely wide enough to stand on, with no interior barrier to keep any careless visitor from tumbling down the center of the tower to the ground below. Daiyu stood on the top step and refused to release her hold on the railing.