Thayu stopped and pressed something cold and metallic into my hands. A charge gun.
I stammered, “How did you get that—”
“Not mine. Shoot at the trees, the walls. Don’t shoot at them or they’ll throw the charge back at us.” However they did this. Normal people just died when hit by a charge.
Shit. What sort of technology did they have?
She set the example, firing a volley of blue flashes into the walls at both sides of the alley. A rubbish bin disintegrated, spilling its contents on the pavement.
Then we were off again. Down the hill.
Down was good; we needed to get to the station which was somewhere on the shore. But I didn’t know which shore; it was too dark to see much, and the rain was pouring down in torrents that ran in my eyes. Thayu wasn’t doing much better, and I knew how much the water hampered her. The pavement, worn and smooth, became slippery under our feet.
“Stop!” She screeched to a halt in an alcove.
“What’s wrong?”
“Need . . . recharge. . . .” She was panting.
She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a canister. A bright glow betrayed our position when she flipped off the lid.
“Shield the light!” I whispered.
She turned her back to me. I felt her indignation—the feeder was working again. Then I also felt guilty about being harsh on her. Coldi had very poor night vision and I didn’t even know if she could see the glow from the pearls, the glow that was like a beacon to me.
A shiver ran across her back.
Sorry.
The feeder returned a burst of warmth. I was forgiven.
She took out the spent pearl—with her fingers—jammed it in her pocket without burning herself and clicked the new one into place. Her skin steamed and I could feel her heat through my wet clothes. She needed to increase her body heat to be this active, but it wouldn’t be long before her stamina ran out.
Do you know where we are?
“No.” In all likelihood, with her poor night vision, she couldn’t even see me.
Where are Evi and Telaris?
Gone, I hope.
I felt sick. They might be in trouble because of me. I tightened my grip on the gun and blocked the alcove with my body, giving her time to recover. The chemical taste of the discharge was familiar in my mouth. I licked water off the back of my hand by way of rinsing my mouth, but that only made it worse.
Why is no one coming after us? Do you think we lost them?
Wouldn’t count on it. Maybe they’ve set a trap.
We waited. A steady rain fell from the sky, pattering on uneven pavement and in puddles. We were about halfway up a sloping alley that, as far as I could see in the dark, zigzagged down the hill. Sparse lights burned in courtyards and windows.
Sounds of normal life—people talking, the occasional shard of music—drifted over the street.
A strange thought struck me. In that moment I thought I might die, I’d thought of protecting gamra from the implications of this invention, I’d thought of my life being made into a movie, I’d thought of my father and Erith. I’d even thought of Nicha and Thayu. Now I stood here protecting her, feeling the heat radiate from her skin, knowing what she felt or would soon feel through the feeder. She was Coldi, but I understood her.
And I knew, deep within me, that I was right and Kershaw and the rest of them were wrong.
Human philosophical historians talked of waves of expansion. The first wave of colonisation had been when people from different continents “discovered” each other, followed by an understanding that regardless of skin colour we were all human. The second wave of colonisation had come when humanity established permanent populations on the Moon and later Mars, and when scientists discovered, quite by accident, that the anpar lines produced by the Exchange occurred naturally in some places, and so humanity had ventured to Taurus and New Taurus on its own steam, without intervention from gamra. The third wave of colonisation . . . no philosopher had mentioned a third wave as yet, but that was me, taking steps for humanity to rejoin the network of human species long ago seeded by the diaspora of the Aghyrians, truly immersing myself in human cultures that had no history on Earth, and feeling more comfortable with them than with my own.
It was a profoundly strange thought to have while standing holed up in an alcove sheltering Thayu from the rain, and it was a thought I should have voiced to Kershaw. He was wrong about the Coldi being too different from us to be part of humanity as a whole. Underneath the differences, we were all the same. If people on Earth had overcome discrimination based on race, then we could also overcome these problems.
A flash of lightning blazed over the city, showing, for a mere split second, a mass of houses, and over the roofs the station and the train line leading to the gamra island. I jerked my head. “Over there.”
Thayu peered into the rain.
“Run down the hill. You go first. I cover your back.”
Run was an order Thayu had no trouble following. I was flat out keeping up with her, having to stay close to the walls and watching for any possible pursuers. Once, I thought I heard footsteps behind us, but I couldn’t be sure. Down the hill we went, onto a small square dark in the shadow of trees. Thayu tripped over a tree root, but scrambled up before I could reach her. I didn’t miss how her hands trembled. She was weakening.
We kept going, through the shadows, onto the metal walkway. The station. Empty except for a deserted train. Even the station attendant had gone.
Oh shit. If train services had stopped, how were we going to get home? But then I remembered the jetty, the boats.
“In here!” I swerved into the dark, down the steps that backtracked under the rails and ran onto the jetty. I jumped into a canoe. Thayu half-fell in after me and I drew a sodden cloth over both of us. We lay there, panting.
A single figure walked across the walkway. Someone called out; the man replied. He ran up the platform and bashed the door of the lifeless train.
The man went back to his comrade on the shore, and the two of them vanished, but their hollow footsteps echoed in the dark long after their silhouettes had gone.
Then there was only silence.
And the pattering of raindrops on the cloth.
And the buzzing and trilling of creatures amongst the reeds of the marsh.
Thayu was shivering uncontrollably. I slipped my arms around her waist and warmed her as much as I could.
We waited. The cloth that covered us stank of fish and must.
Thayu shivered and shivered. Her teeth chattered. I pulled the cloth closer around her, but I couldn’t offer her anything more. My own clothes were as wet as hers and my body temperature was too low for her. We had to do something; morning was a long time away.
In inky darkness, I moved my hands over the bottom of the boat and found the pushing pole.
I hefted myself to my knees, and untied the boat, wobbling. I lowered the pole over the side of the boat and plunged it into the water. Shit—that made a lot of noise. It found soft sand. I pushed; the boat drifted. “Here,” I whispered, holding the pole out to Thayu. “Do this, and keep yourself warm.”
She rose on her knees, large eyes glinting at the water. Terrified, if Nicha’s feelings about water were anything to go by. But she bit her lip and took the pole from me, plunging it once more in the water. The boat shot away from the jetty. She whispered, “Where to?”
I jerked my head at the island, along the silver rails. The sanctuary, gamra territory, where warm lights beckoned and delegates slept in blissful ignorance. Across a large body of frightening water. With someone who couldn’t swim.
20
I PLUNGED THE POLE into the water, pushed, and heaved it out again, mechanically.
By the faint glow of the lights that illuminated the boulevard at the gamra complex, clumps of reeds showed up as mounds of blackness, but I hit many of them nevertheless; the railway line was a blurry line of silver to my right.
My arms ached, my legs ached, and rain sheeted down on me. I had long ago given up wiping it out of my eyes. Long ago, when I had taken the pole from Thayu, when she had dropped it in the water and we had almost lost it. I had told her, too harshly perhaps, that if she was that scared of water, she’d best get out of my way. Ages ago.
But we were relatively safe, or at least until Renkati breached the security perimeter of the gamra island.
Thayu just sat there, her legs pulled up against her body, sheltering under the oiled cloth. Even her feeder input had gone silent. Soaked, exhausted and filthy, I couldn’t help but silently curse her. She was much stronger than I was. If she could pull herself together . . .
The boat clonked into the wooden pylons.
I grabbed the rope with stiff hands and tied it to the nearest post.
“Thayu, you can come out now. We’re here.”
She didn’t move.
Don’t tell me she’s fallen sleep. Although deep inside, I knew that her behaviour had been strange and my anger irrational. Thayu had never shown a sign of shirking her duty.
“Thayu?”
I yanked the cloth up. Her arms unlooped from her knees, and she slumped backwards against my legs. I lost my balance and had to lunge for a pylon to stop myself falling in the water. The boat went the other way. For some precarious seconds, I hung between boat and jetty, trying desperately to keep my feet in the wobbling boat.
Oh, fuck.
I pulled, with my feet, butt ungraciously in the air. The boat moved closer.
Only when I sat on my knees, gasping, on the wet bench in the boat, did I realise that there had been no reaction from Thayu.
She had slumped against the side. Her eyes were half-open, her hand uncharacteristically cool.
“Thayu!” I shook her.
She drew a shuddering breath. There was no response from the feeder.
“Thayu, get up.” I was almost screaming now. All sorts of horrible stories came to me about the effects of hypothermia on Coldi people. It was their major weakness, and could easily lead to death. It set in much sooner than in races not suited to high temperatures, and races with a fixed body temperature. The Coldi body simply lowered the temperature too much, and shut down vital processes as a result.
I jumped to my feet, hauling Thayu up. “Wake up, wake up.”
She mumbled something unintelligible.
With shaking arms and trembling legs, I heaved and pushed her up the jetty. It still rained, and in the pitch darkness I could discern no one to help me.
I draped one of her arms over my shoulder and pulled her to her feet, then tried to get her to walk, but she was so still; she didn’t even shiver.
So, I dragged her to the end of the pier, her feet scraping over the boards, onto the quay and to the back entrance of the building. Into the courtyard.
At the bottom of the stairs, she slipped from my grip onto the steps, awkwardly landing on her side like a bag of potatoes.
“Thayu!”
I pulled her up, but she would not stand by herself, so I slid one arm under her back at the shoulder blades, and one under her knees and lifted her. I wasn’t particularly strong, and although she was shorter than me, she was much more muscular and heavy. My arms were screaming by the time I walked onto the gallery, but sheer determination kept me going. I was not going to leave her alone, after all she had done for me. I was not going to lose another zhayma.
I called out, “Mashara!”
There was no one at the door. Where were Evi and Telaris? I couldn’t get in without them, unless I had the access card. I set Thayu down against the balustrade and fumbled through her pockets. Where was hers?
Confound it. No time. I bashed on the door. “Eirani, open up!”
Nothing.
Back to Thayu’s pockets. Cards, keys, pearl-money, items of which I could only guess the function. Right. This was definitely the last time I left my security anywhere. Just then I closed my hand on Thayu’s keycard.
I yanked Thayu up again, dragged her to the door, held her card up to the panel; the door slid open.
I stumbled through, looking into the astonished face of Eirani, who came running into the hall wrapped in a sarong.
“Muri! The guards are all out looking for you. They came back saying that there had been shooting and . . .” Her mouth fell open. “Is she—”
“Into the bathroom.”
Eirani ran ahead, making sure to roll the door aside properly so I could get through.
In the humidity of the bathroom, I lowered Thayu onto the floor. Her head lolled back. Strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail and clung to pale lips.
Eirani helped me peel off her sodden overgarments.
“It was silly of the Delegate to go out alone.”
“I will do it again. Tell your bosses this: as long as they resort to manipulation of people’s minds, no one will support them.”
She said nothing, recognising defeat perhaps; who was to say? I was too angry to care.
The temperature-control suit was harder to get off Thayu’s limp form, but it would be a hindrance getting her temperature back up to normal, insulating her body from heat as well as cold. It clung to her skin like rubber, and we had to pull so hard I feared we would damage something. Finally, we had it off.
I jumped into the pool with my clothes on and held her on my lap, while Eirani poured hot water over her head and shoulders. If it was possible to sweat underwater, I did.
After Eirani had made many trips to the hot well, a bit of colour came back into Thayu’s face. Her eyes were still closed, but her breath was regular. I even got a few indistinct responses from the feeder.
Eirani helped me heave her out of the pool, where we rubbed her with towels until her skin glowed. I carried her into my bedroom and put her gently on the bed, then found all the sheets, covers and even the flattened-possum rug to put over her. She was now visibly shivering, and that was an improvement.
I grabbed my reader and told Eirani, “I’ll sit with her. You can go to bed now.”
Eirani left. I found the infusor band, looped it around my arm and inserted a capsule. When the contents were gone, I clicked in another one.
Shivering with the effect, almost feeling the heat of my own body, I slipped out of my shirt and, just wearing my boxer shorts, I pushed the covers aside and climbed in the bed.
For all sorts of reasons I had no inclination to explain, I hadn’t wanted Eirani to see me doing this, but remembered what to do from when I had gone camping with Nicha. She might be out of danger, but she wasn’t warm yet, and the best way to warm up someone was with your own warmth.
She barely reacted when I inched into the hollow her body made in the mattress and pressed myself against her, naked skin to naked skin. Her skin felt cool, not natural at all. She let out a soft sigh and put a hand on my arm. A few shards of images flowed through the feeder—black water, a sense of immense fear.
I’m sorry, Thayu.
I hugged her close, rubbing her shivering muscles.
I lay there for a while, listening to her shivery breathing. She mumbled a few incoherent words before lapsing into sleep.
I wriggled myself around so she lay at my back. In the dark, I dragged my reader onto the cover and wrote a quick and cryptic message, What was suggested in the plan is not true. We urgently need to get the missing information. I’ll prepare to leave as soon as possible. Appreciate any assistance. I didn’t dare say much more, because Renkati would be watching, and hoped Ezhya Palayi would understand what I meant, or that at least the cryptic message would trigger a reply. We needed to know exactly what Sirkonen wanted to tell me.
I put the reader aside and turned back to Thayu, pressing my body to her back as much as I could. Her skin was still too cool.
“Come on, help me,” I whispered, rubbing my free hand over her arm and shoulders.
I massaged until her warmth grew heavy against me and I became too tired and rested my head on the pillow.
I slept.
Strange pictures clouded my dreams. I was on a raft in a raging torrent. I had a pole to push the boat, but it wasn’t long enough to reach the bottom. Water sprayed over the side of the raft, but it was hot, not cold. And I tasted salt on my lips. The raft rocked, almost throwing me off, but a jungle vine had reached down from the trees and grabbed me around the waist.
I thrashed to break free, but couldn’t. I dangled above the boiling water. Someone shouted.
Thayu stood on the riverbank, looking pale and scared. Every part of my body told me to go back. She would be killed out there. Suddenly I was on the raft again. I plunged the pole down, struck the bottom, pushing into it as hard as I could, but the raft merely stayed in position against the raging current. I yelled, “Thayu!”
She had to swim. It wasn’t far, but I knew she couldn’t, and I had to jump off the raft to save her. . . .
It was dark. Sheets tangled around my shoulders. Something warm pressed against the length of my body. My nose rested in the hollow of a soft-skinned neck. The scent of hot stone. Coarse hair tickled my face. Long-forgotten memories welled up. Instinct awakened and took over.
I nuzzled the skin under her ear. Breathed her scent, brushed her skin with my lips. She turned her head and ran her lips over the line of my jaw.
Multiple shivers crawled over my back. Absolute bliss.
Come on.
That scent, that fleeting touch of hot fingers. Memories too good to forget. I could go all night without sleep.
I raised myself on my elbows, one on each side of her shoulders.
My heart thudded; my hands raked back her hair, thinking nothing, wanting nothing but her. Then reasoning clicked in my brain.
Eva.
What the hell was I doing?
“Thayu?”
The sliver of light that fell into the window lit her face enough to show her lips, moist and slightly parted. Eyes were wide, confused. “You were screaming my name.”
“I’m sorry.” I dragged a hand over my face. “I had a strange dream.” My heart still thudded like thunder, and my whole body throbbed. For those few horrid seconds, I had thought I would lose her, and that would be . . .
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