The Second Moon

by Bob Marx

  * * *

  If Rhan-da-lith were tomorrow, it would not be soon enough, thought Elizabeth as she pulled the sweetberry pie from the oven. It was Jasin’s favorite dessert and her last resort. He hadn’t eaten a reasonable meal since the party, now nearly a week ago. Having experienced the loss of loved ones she knew all too well the grief Jasin was dealing with. She knew how difficult it would be returning to work, finding normal again when normal would never be the same. But he must try to start picking up the pieces of his life. She sighed; he showed no interest in anything. Although he moved out of his cabin and back into the house, it felt like he had moved farther away, out of her life. Their relationship had become a hollow fragile shell, barely holding the memory of their previous love. Jasin hadn’t spoken of the pain she knew he must be experiencing, hadn’t shared a single emotion, thought, or tender touch.

  One evening, she dragged him into her bedroom where she had prepared a luxurious bath of scented hot water. Candles flickered as she undressed him, and made him lie still as she sensually bathed him. She lathered his face and with exquisite tenderness drew a razor, one careful stoke at a time, across his cheeks. When she was finished, she took him to her bed and made love—all this in perfect silence, and all one-sided. Afterward, he rolled to his side and wept.

  In the middle of the night, she would often find him walking through the mansion muttering to himself, or sitting in his old room rummaging through his childhood toys. Sometimes he would go to Avram’s study, or she would catch him standing by the door of his mother’s room, never daring to enter. He slept even less than he ate. There were days Elizabeth wanted to leave him, to be done with the whole affair, yet she loved him deeply and knew he needed her. Today she would tempt him with pie, tomorrow…she would think of something else. Take just one day at a time; it would get better, she promised herself.

  Jasin couldn’t explain his feelings even to himself, much less to Elizabeth. He knew he was being unfair to her, but somehow fairness seemed irrelevant, a meaningless concept in his life on this world. Depression had gotten hold of him, but there was something more—a battle raged inside—action or inaction, patience or retaliation, obey the Prohibitions or just kill the bastard. Every day that Julian’s rescue was delayed Jasin knew it was more unlikely he would ever see his mother again. And yet, he was the son of a diplomat and had chosen to be a peacekeeper, an Enforcer of the Prohibitions that he now considered breaking. How could he dare think of just marching into Loeton’s home and taking his mother back? It wasn’t only figurative political suicide he was considering. Deeper and deeper, he sank under the weight of his despair and indecision. The lack of sleep and nourishment hid any answer behind a murky veil that stubbornly refused to lift.

  One morning, nearly three weeks from the day they buried Avram, Elizabeth awoke to the clanging of pots and pans. Throwing on a robe, she ran to the kitchen. Jasin had decided to fix himself breakfast. At least it looked something like breakfast. Elizabeth wasn’t sure.

  “Ah, did I wake you? Sorry. Just woke up famished and had to eat. Want some?”

  She yawned and tried to control her tangled hair. She looked at his handiwork. “What is it?”

  “It’s going to be…it’s just…I’m not sure.” He laughed as he realized he didn’t really know what he was hard at work preparing. “It’s food…definitely…definitely food.” He thought that was funny and laughed again.

  There hadn’t been laughter in the house for weeks and Elizabeth welcomed the sound. “Well, make enough for both of us and I’ll be right back after I dress.” She scampered back to her room like an excited little girl celebrating her birthday and a few minutes later joined Jasin for breakfast.

  He didn’t talk about politics, the council, the death of Avram, or even his mother’s plight. It was just mindless banter, but Elizabeth knew that his internal struggle was over. A decision had been made. She hadn’t the faintest idea what he had decided, or if he even knew, but the war was finished and they were enjoying the peace.

  When they finished eating, Jasin asked if she would like to run in the foothills. “I’ve just got to get out of this house,” he explained.

  Elizabeth looked around the messy kitchen, about to suggest they clean up first, but realized how unimportant that really was. Maybe he’d talk after their run. They had some of their best conversations in the low rocky hills or sitting on the promontory. Besides, she thought, she could use the exercise as well.

  Even when the rough terrain finally prevented further running, Jasin refused to rest. He continued climbing over the immense boulders until he couldn’t go any higher. Then he sat, breathing through his scarf to soothe the burn in his lungs, and watched Elizabeth carefully pick her way through loose, snow-covered rocks to join him. She lifted her own scarf over her nose and sat quietly beside him, waiting for him to speak, but Jasin was content with the silence. So they sat. A chill air blew through their rough-cloth. Neither had dressed for this altitude.

  Finally, she lowered her scarf. “You seem like a new man this morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “Hardly slept a wink,” Jasin replied.

  “Well, you seem to have more energy than usual. We’ve never climbed this high before.”

  Jasin merely nodded his head in agreement.

  Frustrated that he wasn’t taking her bait, she tried a different approach. “Several of the neighbors have come over to retrieve their furniture and other belongings they lent us, but many haven’t. Do you think they’re waiting for us to bring their stuff back?”

  “Who knows what they’re thinking? I imagine they’ll be along soon enough.”

  This time it was she who simply nodded, hoping that he’d pick up the conversation. Again they sat in silence. To Elizabeth, it felt like an eternity.

  Finally, Jasin looked over at her and for a brief moment it appeared like he was about to say something. Instead he stood up and stretched. “My legs are cramping. Let’s head back.” Then without offering her a helping hand or even waiting for her to rise, he started down.

  Angered at his abruptness, she just watched him, sure that he’d eventually realize she wasn’t rushing to his side and was upset. But, oblivious to whether she was there or not, he never turned back to find her. Never had he cast her off or been so inattentive or rude to her before.

  Well, at least he was making progress. She tried to concentrate on the positive. Compared to yesterday, he was nearly normal. She’d seen him through the worst of it, and now each day, she was confident he would take another step back. A little discourteous behavior could be tolerated, knowing in her heart what kind of man he really was.

  Once she made it off the awkward boulders, she caught up quickly. Her longer strides allowed her to easily pull even with him. Keeping pace now, she half expected him to glance over, as he usually did, with one of his, “You want to race?” smirks, but he merely jogged on until they reached the cut-off into town. There, he unexpectedly turned away from the road leading back to the house. Elizabeth stopped, unsure.

  “I’ve got to talk to Mas,” he yelled back over his shoulder.

  “When are you coming back?” she shouted. Jasin, however, continued on without another word.

  Elizabeth spent the rest of the day alone, one eye on her chores, the other looking for Jasin’s return. Perhaps she’d made a habit of worrying. The tide had turned. He had seemed better this morning. She had seen him through the worst of it and could begin to relax. It would be all right.

  After preparing a vegetable casserole and putting it in the stone oven to bake, she went outside to gather nutgrass. Later, she would grind its seeds into tasty flour for dessert cookies. She glanced over at Trinity Peak. Feathery yellow clouds hung motionless over the jagged mount. This afternoon, the setting sun’s rays revealed only a long sliver of Conboet, but Eian’s position allowed it to be fully illuminated, reflecting a strong saffron moonlight that bathed the clouds. She always enjoyed the ever-changing celestial show—t
he fantastic lighting effects caused by Syton’s sister moon and the giant planet’s intricate dance. Sometimes the eerie bluish sunlight, yellow moonlight, and the green light from the planet combined to cast wonderfully surreal illumination on the high mountain formations. She scanned the ragged range, enjoying the oddly colored clouds that hid the three highest peaks, then gathered the nutgrass and went inside.

  After stoking the oven and baking cookies, she placed the casserole in the oven and snuggled into a huge overstuffed armchair that had become her favorite. It was one of the borrowed pieces and Elizabeth held out hope that its owner would never return for it. For once she had found a chair that comfortably fit her, that wrapped her in exquisite softness and provided refuge where she usually found a most restful nap.

  Distant voices woke her. Jasin and Mas were arguing and while she could tell they were agitated, the subject was unintelligible. The oven’s aroma drifted in, demanding attention, and interrupting Elizabeth’s efforts to eavesdrop on their heated conversation. In the kitchen, she removed the casserole and placed it on the oven top to keep warm. She was glad Mas was here. His hearty appetite and carefree spirit could only support Jasin’s brighter mood, unless of course their heated discussion was serious. She found them in the second floor study, huddled over one of Avram’s maps, and totally oblivious to her approach.

  “No way! I’ve never heard of a high pass through them,” Mas was saying.

  “Right there,” said Jasin pointing to an area of the map. “See how the two high peaks are widely separated. There’s a pass through there. I’ll bet on it.”

  Elizabeth interrupted, “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat before it becomes cold.”

  Surprised, the two men turned. “Didn’t hear you come in,” Jasin said.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Mas smiled, “It smells great. What’s cooking?”

  “Does it matter?” she replied.

  “Not a bit!”

  “We’ll join you in a minute,” Jasin said. He paused to see if she would take the hint.

  “In one of your minutes, it will be ice cold. You can talk over dinner.” She reached out towards Mas and he took her hand. “Come and he will follow. He wouldn’t dare leave us alone in the same room.”

  “I’m really not hungry,” Jasin complained, but reluctantly, he fell in behind them.

  Over dinner, which he wolfed down despite his claim, Jasin’s plan became clear. The details needed to be worked out, but there was no mistaking his intent to mount a rescue.

  “We just can’t wait and see what the Council of Seventeen will do,” he explained. “At best they might ask Loeton a few questions concerning the Bistoun matter, but neither Toberry nor Lang cared to discuss Mother’s situation. To them it isn’t even an issue. Their view of females is barbaric.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Elizabeth, “Loeton’s not going to give up Julian just because we ask him nicely.”

  Mas looked over at Jasin, curious as to how he was going to answer. After an awkward pause Jasin said quietly, “Then we won’t ask him.”

  “You’re going to travel all the way to Fistulee, walk into his house, and just take her? That’s your great plan?”

  “We weren’t planning to simply walk into his house,” Jasin explained, “more like sneak into it.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You won’t get one day from here before Loeton will know you’re coming.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling him,” said Mas.

  Elizabeth nodded. “You should listen to your friend. You can’t cross over at Bistoun. From what you’ve told me, Loeton practically owns the city and if you go around the Lake, you’ll be seen passing the logging camp. Even if you avoid being seen, there’s too much traffic through the pass, and on the road to Fistulee. Once you’re on the other side of the mountain range, you’ll be noticed for sure.”

  “There’s another way to get into Fistulee,” Jasin said softly.

  “You can’t be serious!” Elizabeth exploded. “By sea? You’re the Enforcer. No human has ever been allowed aboard any ship leaving Soto Harbor for Fistulee. No I take that back. No human has ever been allowed to leave Soto by ship to anywhere. Period. It’s like the Kull—strictly prohibited. You know that.”

  “It’s not exactly like the Kull,” Jasin corrected.

  “He thinks you can cross the Kull undetected,” explained Mas.

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “I agree,” said Mas.

  “You’re both basically right,” Jasin said. “You can’t use Soto, or cross the Andoree River at Bistoun; and going around the end of Lake Chook and through the pass to Fistulee would take weeks, and the chance of detection would be too great. I agree with you, but crossing the Kull isn’t impossible. I believe it’s merely prohibited, but it isn’t enforced; it can’t be enforced it’s too huge an area. They are relying on the fact that it’s naturally inhospitable and already protected on three sides by the Andoree, the sea, and the Kaysop Mountains. The remaining side is next to Bistoun and the heavily traveled road to the pass. By the time you’re there, you’ve been detected. But that’s the only side of the Kull where you’d be noticed. They couldn’t possibly protect all the borders surrounding an area the size of the Kull.”

  “So if you could enter and cross the Kull…then what?” Elizabeth couldn’t believe what she was listening to. Jasin’s entire life was dedicated to enforcing the Prohibitions and now he just wanted to ignore one of them.

  “I still say there’s no high pass through the Kaysop,” said Mas, taking another nutgrass cookie.

  “Sure there is. That was what I was showing you.” Jasin jumped out of his seat and rushed back to the study. “I just thought of something,” he yelled back.

  Mas and Elizabeth followed and found him scrutinizing the map he had laid out earlier. “Avram showed this map to me years ago. It was one of the first that was given to us in the beginning.” The others leaned over to take a closer look. “All these years we’ve called this passage through the mountains, ‘the pass’. See it here? Look what the map calls it—‘the Low Pass’.” Mas looked up puzzled. He couldn’t read the alien symbols. Jasin continued, “Don’t you see? If there is a Low Pass doesn’t that imply the existence of a ‘High Pass’ through the mountains at some higher altitude?”

  Mas shook his head. “Maybe your translation is faulty. Maybe it’s just another way of saying easy or swampy or…”

  “No, it means low or not high,” argued Jasin.

  “Well, not high pass can still be descriptive of its difficulty or elevation without implying another one,” countered Mas.

  “Why are you using this particular map?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Because it’s the best one covering the area into Fistulee,” replied Jasin.

  “Maybe…but it’s not the best one of the mountains.”

  Jasin stared at her. “I looked through all of Avram’s old maps.”

  “Avram had a new map. He showed it to me; it detailed the Kaysop range and was more a piece of artwork than this. I think Sy Lang gave it to him.” Elizabeth glanced about the room.

  After a quick search, they discovered that Avram had been pressing the new map underneath a cloth and a couple of mud bricks in a corner of the study. Jasin freed the flattened map and examined the beautiful artwork. “I’ll bet he was going to frame this.” Then excitedly, he brought it to the desk and placed it over the other map. “See! What did I tell you?”

  Mas and Elizabeth peered at it. Jasin was right. This map definitely showed another pass in the mountains above Fistulee. The artist didn’t label any of the features of the map, preferring instead to have created a work of art rather than a reference. In fact, the mountains were so well drawn, painted so realistically using shading and textures, that one could almost picture the approach to this “High Pass” from the cold desert plain of the Kull.

  “It still doesn’t matter,” said Mas. “We’ll never even get to the Kull undetected, m
uch less cross it, even if it is unguarded.”

  “Look,” Jasin switched the maps to show the first one with the wider view. “We leave at night, during Rhan-da-lith. We head towards Canyon Road as if we were going to Lake Chook or up to Panvera. We get into this wooded area along the rim of the canyon, but instead of following the normal trail down to the waterfall, we cut off into this small area of trees and follow the rim of the canyon until we find a way down to the Canyon River. If anyone was following us they’ll assume we are either on the standard trails, or if they do figure out where we’re heading, there’ll be no way for them to follow us without being heard. It’s too hard to move through the brush without making a racket, especially during the darkness.”

  “So…we cut through the wooded area and just slide down the canyon wall?” Mas asked sarcastically.

  “There will be trails.”

  “And how do you know that?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Do you see this little village? It’s Cernai. It’s right on the canyon rim, at the edge of the forest. They’re a weird bunch of assorted misfits and recluses. Half the cases Beloit and I investigate end up having some connection with these people.”

  “And the trails into the canyon?” reminded Elizabeth.

  “You can bet they have some backdoor in and out of the village.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?”

  “Well, I’ve never actually seen them, but Beloit and I have talked about it often. We figure they must have a shortcut to Bistoun or Lake Chook, so they don’t have to backtrack along the canyon rim and follow the normal Canyon Trail.”

  Mas leaned over checked the map again. “So, do we end up on the Canyon River or the Andoree?”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’d be near where the Canyon River empties into the Andoree—right across from the Kull.”

  Mas couldn’t help smiling. “Ok, so if I understand all this…we cut through these woods; take some mystery trail down into the canyon; somehow get across the Andoree; simply walk across the restricted Kull where no human has ever been; climb through an unknown high pass; and roll down the mountains into Fistulee, where we sneak into Loeton’s house and take Julian back without his noticing, and all this during the darkness of Rhan-da-lith. Do I understand the plan?”

  “Basically.”

  “Basically? You mean it’s actually more complicated than that? Jasin, you’re out of your mind. Even if we could accomplish it, what happens when she’s back? How do we explain it? Loeton will be embarrassed. He will just send his pytor here to retrieve her. Nothing’s solved.”

  Elizabeth agreed. “Won’t he simply pursue? There’s got to be a better way.”

  Mas nodded. “Why not find one of their females and make a trade? Why not kidnap Toberry and exchange him for Julian? Why not go directly up to Loeton’s front door and beg on your hands and knees for him to return her? Maybe, by this time, he would like to get rid of her. He’s probably not used to anyone like Julian.”

  Elizabeth could not hide her smile and Mas grinned at her before continuing.

  “Maybe you can buy her back. Why not challenge him to some contest? Winner takes Julian. Wait, I’ve still got a better idea. Why not get him alone somewhere without witnesses and just kill him. Claim it was a fair fight or an accident or that he lost his temper and you were defending yourself. You’d inherit all his wives, including Julian, and the Council probably won’t say anything. They’ll just be glad that all the troubles between our races are over—girl murdered; suspect dies; justice served, and everyone’s happy. Back to business as usual.”

  Jasin raised an eyebrow. “I said that you basically understood the plan. I didn’t say you knew all of it, although it appears you understand that just freeing my mother isn’t enough.”

  “What are you saying?” Elizabeth asked.

  But Mas understood. He took a deep breath. “He’s saying that he likes my final solution best.”

  “Jasin...is Mas right?”

  “If Loeton dies, the tension caused by the incident in Bistoun will all but disappear and Julian is free to come home, but…it’s important that no human be blamed. Loeton’s death would solve a lot of our problems.”

  “So that’s why it’s important that our little field trip is secret. No one must suspect or be able to prove anything,” Mas continued.

  Jasin nodded.

  Elizabeth couldn’t believe this was the Jasin she had grown to love. She shook her head and spoke directly to him. “You’ve told me how important it is to keep the peace between the races. You’ve spent the last few years enforcing their Prohibitions. Are you telling me now that the best chance for peace is murder?”

  “The best chance for peace is for Loeton to mysteriously die. He must die alone, without witnesses and he must die soon. For humans, he represents a monster; for the Sytonians his interest in women and probable involvement in the murder in Bistoun are embarrassing.”

  Elizabeth was having trouble understanding how a rescue mission had suddenly turned into a murder. She felt trapped, cornered. One minute she was preparing a wonderful dinner and the next she was involved in plans to kill someone. Common sense told her to distance herself from this crazy idea, get away, and don’t look back. It was insane. It was time to leave. Shaking, she turned and walked toward the door.

  Then she hesitated, realizing why Jasin had spent the last few days in inner turmoil. It was a solution he hadn’t desired. He had fought it for days, just as she was fighting it now, but it had been forced upon him. She knew him intimately. He was the ultimate peacekeeper, tender and kind, yet it appeared the best chance for a far-reaching and enduring peace was quick personal violence at great risk. How could she let him face it alone? Was walking out a true reflection of her love? Go ahead, turn your back on him now and try to live with it the rest of your life, she told herself. How could she do that? What if he got hurt? What if he died trying to sustain peace and rescue Julian and she weren’t there to help? She had to stand by him.

  She turned around to face her friend and her love, feeling as if she were floating above the scene, looking down at a stranger. Never having done a violent thing in her life, she was about to agree to help kill someone. She took a deep breath, “O.K. Let’s do it.”

  “You’re not going,” said Jasin coldly. “You’ll only get in the way.”

  Elizabeth’s breath caught in her lungs. Her heart skipped a beat.

  “You’ll put us in danger. You can’t help. Stay here if you like or go home to Panvera. You’re not coming with us,” he repeated coldly.

  She tried to move, to say something but she was frozen. Her mind couldn’t focus; her muscles didn’t work. She knew she looked ridiculous standing with her mouth open. Slowly the shock lessened and she could breathe. If she doubted her capacity for violence before, she now was feeling the level she was capable of. All she wanted to do was strike Jasin and toss him across the room. She had been willing to kill for him and he rejected her. She clenched her fists and stepped forward, but anger suddenly gave way to a wild mix of emotions. Unwanted tears welled up, but before she allowed them to be seen, she turned and ran out.

  Mas looked dumbfounded. “How could you say that to her? She loves you, she would give up her life for you, commit murder for you, and you tell her she’d get in the way?”

  “We don’t need her. Three cannot travel as fast or as quietly as two. She’s always attracting attention.”

  “I’m not talking about logic here. How could you be so cold and heartless? You’ve just destroyed a precious relationship. Something I can only dream about.”

  “Don’t lecture me about love, you idiot. Don’t you realize how dangerous this is? I’m probably saving her life.”

  “I’m an idiot? She wasn’t asking to be saved; she was standing beside you in a time of need, willing to risk everything, willing to die…like I am. Listen, she’s twice as smart and probably twice as strong as either of us. If you don’t think she understands the danger…t
hen you’re the moron.”

  “It’s a moot point. It’s over.”

  “No it’s not. Go to her. Apologize. Explain you were just trying to keep her safe.”

  “I’m trying to keep all of us safe.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If you have any chance of salvaging your relationship—”

  “I can’t afford the relationship. What happens if she is captured or hurt? I couldn’t live with that. Knowing she is safe frees me; it makes me stronger. If she’s with me…listen…her love…our love handicaps me. It weakens us and puts us at greater risk.”

  “What about her strengths? Ever think that her skills and qualities would be assets?”

  Jasin sadly shook his head. “You don’t know…she’s scared of the dark.”

  Stunned, Mas paused. “What are you saying?”

  “Just that. She’s nearly paralyzed by darkness and evening sounds.”

  “Well…we all have our little—”

  “Mas…we’re going during the Rhan-da-lith, the darkness.”

  “You were still a boor.”

  “Maybe so, but I’d rather be a unhappy boor knowing she’s alive and well, than a sorry gentleman mourning his dead love. She’ll probably head back to Panvera. I can’t think of a safer place. You can’t get any farther from the natives…or from Fistulee.”

  Jasin looked down at the maps pretending to study them, attempting to hide his true pain from his friend. Damn it! He knew he hadn’t handled the situation well. The last thing in the world he had wanted to do was hurt her, but he had been afraid he would weaken, lose his resolve and allow her to join them in the most dangerous gamble he could imagine. He wasn’t about to lose another loved one, even if it meant she would never speak to him again. If they all survived, there was always hope.

  Mas left Jasin with the maps and walked downstairs. He needed some fresh air and the walk home would help him put this disturbing day in perspective. As he passed the kitchen, he could hear sounds from Elizabeth’s room. This might be the last time he would see her, he thought. But should he intrude? He could hear Elizabeth’s sniffling and other sounds of rummaging around in her room. She was packing. This wouldn’t be a good time and what would he say? He hated how Jasin had dealt with the situation. It wasn’t fair. If he had a woman like Elizabeth he wouldn’t have been so harsh. He wanted her to know that. Maybe they would see each other again. He went to her room.

  “Go away!” she responded to the knock on her door.

  “It’s Mas. I was leaving.” He waited a few moments for a reply, but there was none. He walked away, his loud boot steps punctuating the uncomfortable silence.

  He crossed through the messy kitchen, never having been cleaned in their haste to follow Jasin to the study. Maybe he should clean it up. He looked around; his gaze fell on the knife she had used to cut the rough bread. It was one of the new knives. He turned back to Elizabeth’s door. “Elizabeth…I need to talk to you.”

  “Say what you need and please go.” Her voice sounded distant, as if she were across the room.

  “No, I mean I need to see you.”

  “Go away! I don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

  “I’ve got something for you.”

  “Just leave it next to the door.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  He heard her footsteps approach. She whispered softly from the other side of the door. “Please Mas, just go away.”

  “I won’t go until I can give it to you personally.”

  Elizabeth opened the door slowly. “Ok, give it to me and then go. I have lots to do.” Her eyes were swollen and she held a rag to her runny nose. Her clothes were laid out on the bed.

  “Can I come in?”

  She motioned him in and he closed the door.

  The reality of her packing struck him hard. “You’re leaving?”

  “What is it you want?” she said.

  “You know he loves…”

  “Don’t even start! Get out!” She flew past him and threw the door open. She was furious at his deception.

  “No, really…I’m sorry…I really do have something for you.” He closed the door again and retreated further into her room, closer to one of the bright lanterns. “Come here.”

  She approached hesitantly, looking him over. He wasn’t carrying anything. Then she thought she understood and held out her arms and the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m going to miss you.” They hugged each other tightly and shared a brief, innocent kiss before letting go.

  “I’m sorry things turned out this way…I have something of yours.” Mas reached down into his boot and from between two pieces of leather pulled out the small alien blade that Joey had purchased for her. “Be very, very careful with it. I’ve ruined quite a few items with it before I found a way to safely hide it. The blade is razor sharp.”

  She took the stiletto and examined the thin black leather handle. “What are these strange markings?”

  Mas shrugged.

  “You said it was mine?”

  “From a couple of secret admirers.”

  She smiled coyly. “You must thank them for me.”

  He lowered his head, silently accepting her recognition. “Just don’t let Jasin or Beloit see it. I’ve carried it since Avram died. I don’t feel comfortable like I used to. Now, I want you to have it. Hide it, but don’t hesitate to protect yourself. We want you to be safe.”

  In her heart, she knew he spoke the truth. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Where are you going?” Mas asked.

  “I don’t know, but I can’t stay here any longer.”

  “Go home. Go to Panvera. When it’s all over we’ll come find you.”

  She bit her lower lip and fought back a new wave of tears. She shook her head. “Don’t bother. It’s all over now.”

  Mas reached over and touched her tenderly. “I think it’s just beginning.”

  Elizabeth

  Once again Elizabeth glanced back in the direction of the Trinity peaks trying to measure her progress, and again, as they had been for most of her flight from Nova Gaia, the distinctive peaks lay hidden behind dark storm clouds. She wrapped her tattered shawl tighter about her shoulders and adjusted her breathing scarf to provide a fresher, more potent swatch of medicated fabric. At least another four tedious hours before she would arrive at the Valley Trail, she guessed. There, she could cut between the two mountain ranges that separated Panvera and all the other human settlements. Four hours if the snow held off, longer if the weather turned.

  Mas was probably right—going home to Panvera made the most sense. She had no desire to remain in Nova Gaia, and except for little Wilem, there was nothing in Lake Chook. The thought of dealing with Jorge again repulsed her. Bistoun had briefly entered her thoughts, but with the tension building there, avoiding it was probably smart. So that left Panvera…and home…and Father. She loved him dearly, but could she live with him for any length of time? If she changed her mind she didn’t have to stay, but at least she was heading somewhere. She had a destination. In only two long days and one sleepless night—actually two, if she counted her last—she could be home.

  How could she have been so wrong about Jasin? To be so cruel, so cold. She tried unsuccessfully to shake off the thought, to concentrate on something else. Didn’t he feel anything towards her? Couldn’t he have shown a trace of sensitivity, instead of making her feel worthless? Less than worthless—a danger to them! Maybe he thought he was protecting her, unsure of his plan, but he could have admitted that, held her tightly, and told her how much he loved her and didn’t want to expose her to danger. He could have, but he didn’t.

  Elizabeth stopped and shifted the painful leather straps of the bulky backpack. It was a bit heavier than the last time she had traveled this road. So much had changed. Two septets ago, she had nothing to lose; now she felt as if she had lost everything.

  The sun hid behind an overcast sky, revealing its position by a hazy glow. Dejected, she realiz
ed it would be trapped behind that gray curtain for the rest of the day. A cool breeze penetrated her thin shawl, sending a shiver through her and she dug a warm jacket out of her pack before continuing. That was another thing that had changed. She remembered being soaked with sweat when she first arrived. Day to day, weather in the gorge was never predictable; there were no seasons, only one’s elevation within the chasm, whether you were closer to the frozen rim or the inferno below mattered at all. There was a fairly good chance that once she reached the high plateau beyond the mountains the temperature would drop even further, and by this time tomorrow, she would be wearing just about everything she carried with her. Elizabeth trudged on. It would be a dismal march—dark sky, dark mood.

  With a sigh, she accepted the reality that she was running away and blamed Jasin for practically throwing her out, but her unquiet mind refused to focus solely on him. Her self-respect and sense of dignity had been damaged as well. She wasn’t comfortable having Jasin believe she was a liability or burden so easily dismissed. Did being the family’s housekeeper and Julian’s handmaiden distort his image of her? Why couldn’t he realize how resourceful and strong she could be? Didn’t he see the depth of her resolve? She wished she had gotten to know him under better circumstances, as equals.

  She walked on, deep in thought, moving instinctively, not really aware of the hours that drifted by or the terrain. Even if Jasin and Mas survived their suicide plan and joined her in Panvera, she would always be the one who ran away, who didn’t risk a thing, the coward who played it safe. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but it bothered her just the same.

  Of course, she blamed Loeton most of all. Without his perversity and hostility towards humans, the problem wouldn’t exist. She remembered his unblinking eyes examining her like a piece of meat to be eaten, his sniffing the air, attempting to smell her. Even her brief exposure to that formidable creature convinced her that Jasin’s plan to kill Loeton would likely fail. Her growing despair and exhaustion gnawed away what spirit she had left until finally, she sat dazed beside the cut-off that would bring her home.

  Thinking about the disgusting towan brought to mind Mas’s alternate rescue plans—particularly the ones involving direct confrontation. How did Mas put it? “Why don’t we just walk up to Loeton’s front door and ask him to return Julian?” Mas was only half-serious, but the idea did contain an element of genius. It was too simple, too naïve to actually work, and two hostile men probably wouldn’t be accepted warmly, but…what about a servant? What about a servant that had already attracted the master’s attention? Would Loeton turn her away? Probably not before raping her like the woman in Bistoun, she thought morbidly. Jasin couldn’t talk about the incident without emotion. He would shake his head; change the subject. But that didn’t stop McMaster. She had overheard him graphically describe the horrid brutality to a member of the Human Caucus. “No woman could survive what that animal did,” he concluded.

  Whenever she thought of it her whole body would involuntarily clench up. Elizabeth’s hand dropped to her boot where she ran her fingers lightly across the hilt of the hidden knife. It made her feel safer even though she was afraid of it. Just having it was against the Prohibitions.

  No, she shook her head. She would avoid tempting him, but maybe he would allow Julian the services of her handmaiden. If she were there when Jasin and Mas arrived, she was certain she could help. Who was she kidding? What could she really do, a woman who was even scared of the darkness, especially the total darkness of Rhan-da-lith?

  No one actually knew when the darkness of Rhan-da-lith would begin, but Sy Toberry had said twenty days, and most believed he had an uncanny intuition about that sort of thing. If he was right, Jasin and Mas would begin their secret rescue in about a week, and then they would have to negotiate the Kull and cross the Kaysop range before arriving in Fistulee.

  Elizabeth’s mind wouldn’t let it go. If she took the direct public route, Elizabeth figured she could be in place, in Loeton’s home, for at least two weeks before they arrived. Having someone on the inside, even someone Jasin hadn’t planned on could be the difference between success and failure. She could inform Julian of the plan and keep her from trying anything foolish…if she hadn’t already.

  Silly dreams. Here she sat exhausted from just the morning’s walk. Fistulee was at least six long days away if she had enough crystals to cross the Andoree by ferry—which she didn’t—and even longer if she were to go through Lake Chook and around the logging camp. Six days meant five nights in the open. She hadn’t planned on camping, had no extra food, no extra meita tablets, and knowing that Panvera was so close, she hadn’t even packed a blanket. Just sitting for these few moments, she could sense the cold ground sucking the heat and feeling out of her bottom. There was really only one intelligent choice, she told herself. She stood and stepped off the main trail and toward Panvera and her father. Having made the decision, she relaxed and focused on the trail in front of her.

  The night came. A faint glow from Eian kept her from stumbling over any of the larger rocks, but after the moon set, the dimness thickened and the ground fog rose. She hesitated, dreading the thought of stopping, fearing what must certainly lay hidden in the darkness. Rational or not, ever since that last night with Michael, and the cyliths, and the darkness, and the sounds of a gruesome death, she could never again be comfortable when the brightness left and memories invaded. Conboet would soon rise again, but in the meantime, she bravely made her way by what little starlight penetrated the dense clouds. If she didn’t stop, they couldn’t find her. It was a comforting lie.

  The dimness seemed to last forever and she trudged on barely able to see her feet. When her throat hurt, she would rotate or refold her scarf. She stumbled only once and the awkward weight of her backpack drove her crashing into the ground, scraping her knee on the sharp stones. The bleeding quickly stopped, and the gnawing pain actually sharpened her senses. By first brightening, she was on the high plateau. The massive hulk of the Schtolin range was behind her right shoulder and Trinity made an appearance over her left. In ten hours, she would be having dinner with her father.

  As she had predicted, the temperature dropped, but the overcast sky cleared and the radiant sunlight warmed her face. She decided to rest and emptied most of her clothing from her backpack to create an inviting bed behind a huge boulder that would shield the cool wind. Ever mindful of cyliths, she lay back and let the sun warm her tired body. She fought the waves of sleep that tried to overwhelm her, knowing that to lose consciousness could still be dangerous. Just rest, she reminded herself…just rest. Then, whether she wanted it or not, her body stole the sleep it needed.

  She awoke in pain. Before, when she was moving, her knee felt fine, but now she realized, it must have been more than a simple scrape. While she slept, it had swollen and she was having trouble straightening it. Trying to ignore the pain, she donned a few more layers and tried to stand. Slowly she was able to extend her leg and put weight on it. I’ll be fine, she convinced herself, and she resumed her journey with only a slight limp that diminished as her knee warmed up.

  She noticed the approaching caravan while it was still an hour away. The dust cloud that the blaythons and carts created was easy to spot, but she doubted that they could see her, a single person. As it drew closer, the distinctive clatter from the traders’ hoard made her smile. She fondly remembered scavenging through their junk piles when she was a child, their rapid-fire banter begging you to buy or trade a worthless trinket or two. They probably left Panvera early this morning, she thought.

  “Here’s a customer,” shouted the blond man in the first blaython cart. Elizabeth suspected he was the leader. “Looks like she needs a new leg.” Then turning to the small boy walking next to him, “Hey! Check under the pots there…see if there’s one that’ll fit.”

  “Looks like she’ll need a long one,” answered the flaxen haired boy, without missing a beat. “Want to take a look-see lady? Never can tell what’s st
ashed underneath.”

  The caravan came to a halt beside Elizabeth, who grinned broadly. There were two other blaython carts, about six children on foot, and two older women on their own animals: eleven humans, three carts, and five blaythons in all.

  “Trying to sneak up on me?” Elizabeth asked jokingly. “I almost walked right by without noticing you.”

  “Can’t have that, nope, bad for business,” replied the ill-shaven leader with a nose reshaped by too many disgruntled customers. “Name’s Simon, young lady. You need something, ask Simon. What do you need?”

  “Well, you might as well get on your way. I haven’t a decent meita or crystal; not a thing to trade.”

  “Heard that lie before, but we have what you need, you can be sure.”

  “What I need is to get home before the dimness.” Elizabeth glanced at the gathering traders and their families. She recognized one of them—a slender man with shaggy, dirty hair falling out of a floppy hat and ending at his shoulders. “You there, in the red hat…still selling keetah from T’Matte?”

  The man stepped forward to take a better look at her. “You want keetah?”

  “You sold me keetah when I lived in Lake Chook…for the funeral, remember?”

  Recognition spread across his face. He tossed a handful of hair behind an ear. “You’re the lady who smoked Hyland, aren’t you?”

  “I had a friend who said it was the best keetah he ever had.”

  “You want more? We have plenty of keetah…good stuff from Bistoun. Won’t have more T’Matte keetah for awhile, but I’ll save you some.” He drew closer and whispered, “If you’re partial to keets though, we still have some from Fistulee.”

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but the mention of Fistulee perked her interest. “You get down there often? To Fistulee?”

  “Hey there! Stop hogging the customer,” yelled Simon.

  “She’s just interested in our travels, that’s all,” replied the man in the red hat.

  “What she’s interested in is getting home before dark…say lady, you wouldn’t be interested in a lantern just in case you don’t make it before the dimness returns? Got a good one…won’t cost you much.”

  “No, just want some information. Do you plan to go to Fistulee?”

  The caravan leader scrutinized her. “You really don’t have a yellow crystal to your name, do you?”

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  Simon turned to his small band. “Let’s get moving, there’s nothing here…don’t mean to offend miss, it’s just that we’ve got to get on.” As the others got back to their carts and blaythons, he added, “We’re not going to Fistulee this leg. Bistoun, then T’Matte.”

  He turned away. What a strange assortment, she thought as the caravan started moving past her. They must join and split up at will. The trader with the red hat was alone when he sold the keetah to her. His junk filled cart brought up the rear and although he was now part of the larger caravan, she sensed he was a newcomer. He still appeared a little detached, still alone. “Hey! You with the red hat,” she yelled. “Where after T’Matte?”

  “Fistulee, then back to Lake Chook. Round and around.”

  She watched them leave. Her father and a comfortable bed were just a few hours away, but they were heading to Fistulee. Forget it, she told herself. What could you do except get yourself hurt again? Without realizing it, however, she moved to follow the last cart. She could help Julian; that’s what she could do. She could help Mas. She might even keep Jasin from getting killed. The bastard didn’t deserve to die at Loeton’s hands. She laughed to herself, no…if anyone was going to kill Jasin it would be her. She walked as fast as her knee allowed until she was even with the last cart carrying the man with the red hat. She smiled at him. “You want company?” she asked.

  The man stopped the cart and helped Elizabeth onto the seat beside him. “I thought you were going home.”

  As the cart rattled forward, she turned and looked over her shoulder toward Panvera. “I thought so too.”

  Over the next few hours, barely a word passed between them. The trader stole a few glances in her direction, but Elizabeth pretended not to notice. Finally, he mumbled something that Elizabeth couldn’t make out over the clanking. “What?” she asked.

  “I said, ‘you’re not much company.’”

  Elizabeth realized he had a point. These traders didn’t give anything away and she supposed conversation was a small price for the ride. “My name’s Elizabeth. Thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She sat waiting for him to tell her his name, but instead he began to hum to himself. He was happier now. That was easy! After a few minutes, she began to laugh.

  “What’s with you?” complained the trader.

  “Nothing…have you got a name?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I guess not.” He was obviously a brilliant conversationalist. She couldn’t help a small giggle.

  “Eddie, my name’s Eddie. Why you laughing at me? Want to get off and walk.”

  “No offense, Eddie…I like your hat,” she said with a grin.

  “Can’t have it.” He pulled the hat tighter. His greasy hair flared out beneath the brim.

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Good!”

  They rode on in silence. Elizabeth thought about the caravan’s itinerary. Panvera to Bistoun to T’Matte. If they weren’t going to Nova Gaia, why come through the valley? Why didn’t they skirt around the Schtolin range? It would have been more direct and they wouldn’t have to take the carts down the steep and rocky canyon trails. It didn’t make sense.

  “Eddie, why come this way if we’re going to Bistoun? Isn’t it easier to go around Schtolin?”

  “Went that way from Lake Chook. Got a stop to make tomorrow.”

  “In Nova Gaia?”

  Eddie shook his head, but offered nothing more.

  “You might as well tell me. I’ll find out tomorrow.”

  “Not if you keep nagging me you won’t.”

  It was her turn to shake her head. Now she knew why he traveled alone. “No family?” she asked.

  “I got family…a boy in Bistoun.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, just cause he ain’t here doesn’t mean nothing. Sami gets along fine. I check in whenever I pass through. Who are you to make judgments?”

  “I wasn’t saying anything.” And she thought that was probably the best way to keep it.

  The next day the caravan left the valley trail and turned onto the road that led away from Nova Gaia and toward the canyon. Within an hour, they entered the thick stand of skinny trees that skirted the canyon rim, exactly where Jasin and Mas planned to leave the road to find an alternate path down to the river. Suddenly, the lead cart headed into the woods and, for a brief moment, she wondered if the caravan planned to descend the same way. Eddie maneuvered their cart to join the rest of the group, who had already stopped in a clearing just out of sight of the main road. He got down off the cart, opened his tousers, and pissed against a nearby tree. The women scurried into the bushes to find slightly more private spots. All of this had a sense of practiced routine. They had been here before. Eddie walked back to his cart, closing up as he approached. “It would be best if you didn’t show much interest in what happens here.”

  Elizabeth nodded and gingerly stepped off the cart. Her knee was stiff and still hurt when she tried to fully extend it. She followed the women but headed deeper, just beyond the brush to the edge of the woods. They hadn’t stopped since breakfast and she was about to burst. There’s probably no other position that feels so defenseless, she thought as she squatted. Looking around, she hoped there were no curious animals. She tried to finish quickly, but a rustling sound interrupted her.

  “Damn!” she swore under her breath. Moving easily between the thin trees, she could see five humans carrying bundles, heading for the caravan. She crouched low allowing them to pass before res
uming, then nonchalantly made her way back to sit among the playing children and listen to the visitors begin to barter.

  The trading session proceeded smoothly. Goods changed hands and occasionally a visitor would lean over and dig into one of the carts. Elizabeth figured the strangers were from the village Jasin had mentioned.

  While the others finished their exchanges, Eddie and a short, scrawny man, who carried a small sack, separated from the group and a private negotiation began for the contents. Elizabeth couldn’t tell what the bag held, but Eddie kept peering into it and shaking his head. The conversation became quite animated.

  “Do I look stupid?” she could hear Eddie saying.

  The anemic looking fellow shook his head and quietly explained something she couldn’t quite hear. Eventually, he dragged Eddie by the sleeve into the woods. They were gone about five minutes when Elizabeth was surprised by a muffled explosion. She jumped and turned towards the sound just in time to see one of the taller trees come crashing down. Most of the assembled group turned and laughed; no one else appeared shocked or as amazed as she. To them it appeared commonplace, but to her it was totally inexplicable. She had never seen anything powerful enough to topple a tree. It had to be prohibited. A minute later Eddie emerged alone from the woods and walked straight to his cart where he stashed his newly acquired bag beneath several heavy bundles. He looked around to check who might have seen him. Elizabeth turned away, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

  Done with their business the caravan left the clearing. After they had been on the road for several minutes, Eddie confronted Elizabeth. “I don’t need you getting curious. Be bad for everyone. You too. Understand?”

  Elizabeth nodded. Clearly, she had a lot to learn. Jasin had mentioned that much of his work involved the Village of Cernai and she was sure she had just witnessed a sample of their prohibited handiwork. Courtesy of the traders, the entire human domain was able to gain access to it—if one knew what to ask for. She thought about the unusual greenish-blue knife hidden in her boot and wondered if it too came from Cernai. After what she saw today, and Eddie’s overt threat, she was smart to keep the weapon close at hand.

  The next few days passed without incident and Elizabeth enjoyed the beautiful passage through the canyon, past the thundering waterfall, and over the precarious bridge, spanning the wild upper branch of the Canyon River. The weather became balmy once they left the highlands and neared the Andoree. Elizabeth continued to shed her bulky outer clothing and warm sweaters, emerging like a pretty butterfly from her insulated cocoon. Lewd glances from the men of the caravan, and scathing looks by their women gave Elizabeth notice that she had upset the group’s sexual balance. Eddie, knowing he was gaining significant stature by being in the company of such an attractive young lady, sat next to her beaming, his head held high.

  After the caravan used the ferry to cross into Bistoun, Eddie made a point of reminding her that she owed him her share of the toll. “You know, there’re other ways of making payment. A man gets lonesome on the road. I have given you transportation, food, a place to sleep. I’ve paid your toll… and what I’m asking for now you can give away and still keep.”

  Elizabeth played dumb. “I don’t understand. It was only a few little crystals. Haven’t I been good company? I should see if anyone else is willing to let me ride with them.” She felt guilty taking advantage of his loneliness and generosity, but she really didn’t have anything to give except some clothing, her body, or the knife Mas had given her. He wouldn’t want the clothes, and parting with the other two was out of the question. The issue smoldered just below the surface. Eddie never pushed exceedingly hard, but it was obvious to Elizabeth she had a kindness, if not a debt to settle.

  Their last night in Bistoun brought a warm muggy night. Air plankton displayed their mating colors. Sounds of laughter spilled out of the nearby inn. Elizabeth watched Eddie and his son, Sami, sort through the cart’s inventory, arguing over what should be kept and what they could afford to trade. Once in a while they’d turn and give Elizabeth the evil eye as if to say this was none of her business. She wandered over to the fire where Simon, the caravan’s leader, had decided to get drunk. He offered her a swig.

  “Well, girly, you the kind that likes showing merchandise not for sale? You’ve been doing a good job of it. Got the other women talking, that’s for sure.”

  She took a long draw from the bottle and handed it back. “Don’t be disgusting. You’ve been a proper gentleman all these days. Don’t let the drink talk for you.”

  “Ain’t the drink. Comes from here.” Simon grabbed his crotch. “Human nature. You’re too young and pretty to be hanging in a traders’ caravan without eventually turning. Seen it before. You’re one of the lost ones. Not too long before people going to think you’re trading your wares too. Pretty soon you’ll be considering it. Fast, easy money.”

  “You think that? You think I’m a whore.”

  “I don’t think you know what you are yet. But we could make a lot of meita with a fine ass like yours.”

  Before Elizabeth could respond, they both turned at the sound of footsteps on the gravel. Eddie approached. There was no sign of the boy.

  “Ah, Eddie my good man. Join us. Tell me straight. All these days this fine woman is sitting next to you, you ever think—”

  “Come on, boss. She don’t deserve this. You horny, you want to get laid? There are a dozen ladies happy to take care of you in this town. Hardly cost what you’ve already drunk. Let her be.”

  Simon squinted and leaned in towards Eddie. “My, my Eddie, protective aren’t we?”

  Eddie said nothing.

  “Well Eddie,” Simon continued. “I’ve been thinking. I’m cutting the troop down. You been square with me as the leader and all, but the rest…they ain’t coming. You know how it is out here. If they travel with me, I get a share.” Lifting his head and looking directly at Elizabeth he continued. “You can pay her cut if you’re so inclined.”

  “My cut?” Elizabeth faked an innocent frown. “I haven’t made any trades. How can I owe you anything?”

  “From what I have seen, you haven’t done much of anything around here since you began riding with us, except maybe eat our food. We don’t cater to freeloaders. This is a pay as you go situation. Either you pay or you go.”

  Eddie shook his head. “There’s no reason to be pressing her for what she ain’t got.”

  “She ain’t got nothing but that fine body far as I see. Peoples pay their way. You know it. Time she learns it.”

  Eddie nodded. “Can’t be arguing that, but…but she’s paying in private if you know what I mean.” Elizabeth was about to object, but caught herself and remained silent.

  “Ha, I knew it.” He stared at Elizabeth. “I ain’t dumb. Remember what I said, human nature…but,” Simon turned to Eddie and shrugged. “That don’t fill my poke any.”

  “Boss, I’ll make sure you’re happy by circuit’s end. Trust me.”

  Grousing to himself, Simon teetered to his feet and staggered off.

  “Thank you. I’ll make it up to you,” Elizabeth promised Eddie. “Someday, I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

  “Someday,” he replied dolefully, “I’ll be dead.”

  By first brightening the two remaining carts were already outside Bistoun and skirting the short inland border of the Kull. The caravan leader had been true to his word. All that was left of the group were his wife and kid, and the two of them. She felt lucky to have caught Eddie’s fancy, but despite what slimy Simon had said, and Eddie had intimated, she had definite boundaries she wouldn’t cross. She could see how easily a young woman could slip. Other women, perhaps; not her.

  “Hey, Eddie. What do you know about the Kull?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

  But Eddie didn’t know much and cared to discuss it even less. “It’s just a desert without roads, and more importantly, without customers. Not much use to a trader,” he said.

  “You�
��ve been there, in the Kull?”

  “Don’t want to see what I don’t need.”

  Elizabeth nodded, pretending to agree and sat quietly.

  The road to the native capital, T’Matte, was fairly straight and well travelled. They made good time. By midday they approached the so-called Low Pass. Compared to the deep valley between the colder ranges leading to Panvera, this cut through the range seemed barely elevated, yet when Elizabeth looked back towards the Andoree, the entire course of their trip could easily be traced.

  Turning to Eddie she asked, “I was wondering, you know whether there is any other way through these mountains, other than this pass?”

  “Never heard of anything but the pass here. I was told once that you could go around the mountains but far as I know, this is the only way through them.”

  Since joining the traders, this was the first time Elizabeth knew better. As they made their way through the pass, Elizabeth scanned the high, inhospitable mountain range to the right. If there was a “High Pass”, she couldn’t see it. She thought of Jasin’s plans, and found it difficult to imagine how they were going to make it over or through, even if they survived the Kull. From her perspective, the maps in the study poorly represented the journey.

  They continued down into the warmer region, through vast expanses of humid grazing land. The two women had stripped down to their thinnest shirts and the men wore nothing but shorts. Still, everyone was red faced and dripping. Elizabeth packed her boots along with the thin blade. The traders had their own code of honor, and if they hadn’t threatened her to this point she felt safe, she could trust them. On the third day out from Bistoun, they came to a fork in the trail and took the left branch. “Where does the other road lead?” Elizabeth asked Eddie.

  “Fistulee.”

  “How far away is it?”

  “A full day’s walk. Not thinking about deserting me are you?” His gaze drifted to her chest. Elizabeth’s face reddened, realizing how her sweat-soaked blouse stuck to her breasts.

  “And how far is it to T’Matte?” she asked, ignoring his stares.

  “Full of questions, now aren’t you.”

  Elizabeth turned and looked over her shoulder at the cut-off receding into the distance. “How far?”

  “Another day, but T’Matte is much nicer. You’ll like it. We’ll stay a few days and then, drop you off on the way back.”

  “But that would be four or five days from now.”

  “Five at least.”

  Elizabeth knew the timing of that wouldn’t work. “Can’t you drop me off first—”

  “Listen, woman! Don’t be asking me to do you no favors…what with all your goods hanging out and teasing me without so much as letting me have a little—”

  “Quit it, Eddie, and stop the cart. I want to get down.” Elizabeth reached behind her and grabbed her pack. “I can’t wait five days.”

  “I ain’t stopping.”

  “Come on, I’ve got to get off.”

  He ignored her and kept the blaython cart rolling, encouraging the animal to speed up. Elizabeth considered jumping, but her knee had just begun to feel better and was afraid of hurting it again. If she didn’t get off now she would waste at least two days walking back. Every minute took her further from Julian and Fistulee. Finally out of despair, she said, “I’ll let you kiss me.” Her stomach turned just to say the words.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Don’t make me say it again. Stop now or I’ll jump off,” she bluffed.

  “No little peck on the cheek,” Eddie warned. “And you kiss back or no deal.” He pulled back on the reins and the blaython came to a halt. Before she lost her nerve, she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the lips and suddenly felt his hands cup her breasts through the thin fabric.

  “Hey, that wasn’t part of the deal!” she complained. He was grinning broadly. She thought about slapping him…but what good would it do? Instead she gathered her belongings and climbed down the blaython’s middle leg.

  “You got off cheap,” remarked Eddie, who was still smiling.

  She wasn’t really angry. In fact, she secretly agreed with him; if a kiss and stolen touch were all it cost her to get to Fistulee, it was a bargain. “Good luck in T’Matte, Eddie. Maybe I’ll see you in a few days.”

  Eddie lost his smile. “Do you know what you’re doing? Some of the natives haven’t ever seen a human female before. It’s really not safe. Haven’t you heard about the woman in Bistoun? Won’t be any other humans in Fistulee ’til we get back.”

  Elizabeth knew there was at least one other. “I’ll be all right, but thanks for the warning…thanks for everything.” Eddie shook his head and frowned. “Put your boots on you fool woman.” Without another word, he shook the reins, urging the blaython forward to rejoin the others.

  Eddie had lied. Elizabeth discovered Fistulee was actually much closer. By mid-afternoon, she stood on the crest of a hillock and was able to look down at the town. A wide road switched back and forth from where she stood, descending the steep grade before ending at a busy harbor. Squat, reddish-brown, mud homes lined the edge of the water except near the dock, where the usual assortment of warehouses, taverns, and shipyards catered to the fishing trade. The town expanded along a series of nearly concentric roads, which roughly followed the curve of the irregular bay. The largest homes were the farthest from the water’s edge and she figured Loeton’s had to be one of them. Off in the distance to her right, she could see the backside of the Kaysop range. Elizabeth strained to make out a high pass. Heat roiled the atmosphere making the mountains shimmer and distort. If a high pass existed, she couldn’t make it out. She felt faint and a little dizzy; the combination of heat, exertion, and the lack of water were exacting their toll. A scorching exhalation of wind off the plain coaxed her onward.

  Instead of following the twisting road, Elizabeth discovered a more direct footpath down through the brush. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged at the edge of town, bleeding just above her boot tops where thorny foliage had scratched her. She found a large boulder to rest on while she dabbed the blood with a strip of cloth cut from an old sock.

  What now? How would the natives react to her just walking alone into town? Eddie might be right about the danger. She thought of the sharp little knife hidden in boot. Would she ever have the nerve to use it?

  She was hungry, hot and tired. Her head ached and she needed something to drink. Should she try to get some rest and water before finding Loeton? She couldn’t imagine what she looked like after five days on the trail without washing, but she already knew how awful she smelled. If she was hoping to persuade Loeton, with his sense of smell…she started to laugh. What did she know about the native’s tolerance or for that matter attraction to what she considered offensive? She recalled Jasin’s admonition not to forget that they aren’t human. It didn’t matter, she finally decided, she needed to find some water and clean up.

  She took stock of what she was wearing—a filthy thin blouse, grimy shorts, and a pair of heavy, cold-weather boots. She looked like a misfit, a vagabond, not exactly the presentation to make a positive impression on Sy Loeton when she asked for refuge, at least not like the last time she had caught his eye. At the party she wore a simple, elegant dress. That had pleased him…at least he took time to look at her, to smell her, but that dress hung in an empty room in Nova Gaia. She forced the image out of her head. That was the past.

  She emptied her pack on the ground. It was mostly warm clothing, sweaters, her long coat, pants, a heavy skirt, another smelly shirt, a pair of lighter shoes, dirty socks and underwear. She began stuffing the clothing back into the pack; there was nothing, except the shoes, that she could wear in this climate. The heavy coat was the silliest, but as she jammed it into her pack she realized it had an inner liner of smooth thin fabric. She rolled the white material between her fingers; it was quite soft and because it had always been protected from the elements, it was clean. She used the little knife to effor
tlessly cut the lining from the coat. If she removed the long sleeves and cut them into long strips, she could use the fabric to lace up the front. It could pass for a makeshift dress. Quickly completing the alterations, she slipped off her clothes to try it on. By adjusting the lacing, her design worked fine. She could tighten the top to hold herself in, and again across her hips for modesty, but the rest of the lacing could remain loose allowing the garment to move comfortably. Finally, she cut a slit where her right hand would lie against her thigh. There, she would hide the knife where she could easily reach it, hidden between loose folds of fabric. Now after she washed up, she would have something to wear and if anyone searched her pack or it were taken or searched, the knife would never be found.

  Elizabeth exchanged her boots for the lighter shoes and changed back into her shorts and blouse. She wrapped the thin knife in the blood-soaked rag she had used on her calves, and tucked it into the back of her shorts. Her loose shirt covered the handle, but allowing it to be reached in an emergency. Finally, she headed towards the small harbor.

  She hesitated. The waterfront was crawling with towans. What did she expect? Scanning the bank, she realized that she’d be exposed anywhere along the bay, so she cut between a few homes, looking for fresh water. Anything would do; she was desperate. Finally, she found an animal water trough near a stable. If it were clean, it would suffice. Looking around to insure she was alone, she scooped up a little water and brought it to her nose. It smelled putrid and she let it drain through her fingers. Ducking behind the stable, she went to the next bale and stucco home. It looked deserted, but next to the back door flap was a rain barrel. She leaned over and gave the water a good sniff; it smelled fine. She dipped her cupped hand into the water and brought it to her mouth. When she had drunk enough, she stripped off her shirt, and using it as a rag, began to clean herself. Her hair felt like it carried a bucket of dirt from the trail. Holding her breath, she leaned into the rain barrel to rinse it.

  As she stood up, intense pain sliced through her skull and darkness closed in around her. She fell back into the water, blood pouring from the back of her head where she’d been struck, turning the rainwater red.

  Elizabeth drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours. Finally, when she could focus, she found that she was lying on her stomach. Someone had dragged her half-naked body a few feet from the rain barrel and dumped her face down in the dirt. Her hair was a snarled mass of mud and she was caked in dried dirt. Any attempt to move her head caused excruciating pain.

  A three-toed native foot came into sight. It slipped under her shoulder and forcefully flipped her over onto her back. A sharp sting shot through her buttocks, and through her hazy fog of consciousness, she realized she had cut herself with the little dagger hidden in her shorts. The towan loomed over her and was talking excitedly. Elizabeth couldn’t understand a single word. He leaned over her and turned her head from side to side. Elizabeth cried out in pain and he drew back. Blackness filled the edges of her vision and she felt nauseous. He peered down at her bare breasts and reached down to touch the strange creature he had found in his rain barrel. She let out a low animal growl to scare him off, but the towan ignored her and pressed a bony finger into her soft bosom. With as much force as she could muster, she slapped his hand away. Consciousness began to slip away again, but before the darkness completely enveloped her, she pointed to the center of her chest and said the only thing she thought he’d understand. “Loeton…Sy Loeton.” Then she passed out.

  Phenomenon

  Elizabeth struggled to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t obey. Frightened, she ran her trembling fingers across her eyelids and felt a thin coating of gritty paste, which she frantically tried to wipe away. Dozens of tiny hands attempted to hold her arms still. She fought them off while again trying to open her eyes, but darkness still enveloped her. Terror crept in and she screamed at the restraining hands, lashing out blindly at anything within her reach.

  She was naked, and exposed, without even a thin sheet to cover her. Total blackness magnified her labored breathing. What had happening to her eyes? Her bottom ached and the blackness swirled around her. Then strangely, her fingers began to feel numb, not from making contact—she hadn’t struck anyone or anything very hard—her fingers were just losing their sensitivity. She felt herself falling, tumbling farther and farther down.

  Elizabeth awoke countless times with the paste on her eyes, and always the tiny hands would come to restrain hers. Sometimes they would tenderly stroke her face. Occasionally, she heard soft singing. It was comforting and she would relax…and sleep.

  Her dreams were vivid—distorted, frightening images that assaulted and terrified her. During brief moments of lucidity, Elizabeth struggled in vain to recall what had occurred, where she was, what had happened. Sometimes, her head ached, other times it was her buttocks.

  Time had no meaning. Days passed as hours. They fed her, cleaned her as if she were a baby. Beneath her lay a mattress, her head rested on a soft pillow, she felt clean and cared for. There was no need to be afraid, but she was.

  One day, she gained consciousness while the paste was being removed from her eyes. She strained to open them, but the lids were still numb. She reached up to touch them, but as always, the hands pulled hers away. Suddenly, she felt something drop on her cheek. They were reapplying the paste to her eyes. Overpowering the restraining hands, she wiped it away and again noticed her fingers became numb. It was some crude local anesthetic and painkiller that relieved her head pain. Was it also paralyzing her eyelids? Perhaps she wasn’t blind after all.

  Elizabeth held her hands over her eyes, refusing to allow them to apply more paste. She could hear alien jabbering, but it wasn’t the low gruff voices of the towans. These must be the voices of their females, the towas Jasin had told her about. She was anxious to see them…anxious to see anything.

  Her caregivers relented. Without the numbing paste, her eyesight slowly returned, along with a terrible headache. She lifted her head with difficulty, attempting to focus. It was dark. Her sight was blurred and she could make out very little. The more she strained to see, the more her head throbbed. The price of her sight was difficult to bear. She could feel a huge swollen egg on the back of her head. And then it all came back.

  Why did the towan have to hit her so hard? It was only water. Maybe she scared him. That was a funny idea. Maybe he was just angry to find a tall, half-naked woman bathing in his drinking water. With a groan, she lay back down. Sweat dripped from every pore, soaking her mattress. She missed having a blanket or sheet to cover her.

  How much time had passed since she was struck? She had vague recollections of strange dreams and of waking often. Perhaps several days had passed. No matter, tomorrow morning she would force herself to get up. Tonight it felt good to lie still, to rest…just to sleep.

  It was the singing of the towas that woke Elizabeth. Bright sunlight streamed into the room. The tiny natives moved quickly about the large, undivided room performing chores, singing to themselves and each other. She smiled. Following an individual was confusing, like the tavern game where the object was to follow the movement of the ball as it was shuttled beneath various cups and then to guess under which the ball rested. Several were busy boiling a red liquid over a miniature clay stove. In the center of the room was a shallow pit lined with pillows. She knew the natives didn’t sleep, so its purpose was a mystery.

  Ignoring the pain radiating from the stab wound on her bottom, she raised herself to a sitting position. The towas gathered around her. Even without standing, she was able to look them in the eyes. She counted seven tiny females. Loeton had seven wives. Pointing to the ground she asked, “Loeton?”

  The towas stared at the floor where she had indicated, as if expecting something to materialize there. Finally one of them pointed at a door across the room. “Sy Loeton,” the tiny female declared. The others turned quickly to face the door, now anticipating their husband’s entrance.
Elizabeth laughed and understood. Not exactly as she had hoped for or planned, but she had made it.

  The towas turned back to see why she had laughed. They all looked like twins leaning back on their thin middle legs. It was difficult to differentiate between the tiny females. They wore no clothing, and each of their round faces was practically identical; short curly brown hair covered their heads, but they had no eyebrows; their bodies were slender, without breasts, but with protruding nipples; long thin arms ended in delicate three-fingered hands with double opposable thumbs. One striking difference between them was the varying appearance of their groins. One towa hadn’t a single hair covering her delicate folds, which looked pink, fresh, and soft. But on another towa, a thick coarse mat of hair protected her reproductive opening. Her vulva also appeared toughened by calluses. In between these extremes, were towas at different stages of growing the thick patch over increasingly callused tissues. At first, Elizabeth thought she was seeing different stages of adult development, but at least half of them were in the process of molting their pubic hair and their calluses were flaking off. A cycle, she guessed.

  One of the towas brought Elizabeth a cup of warm liquid from the stove. It tasted awful, like weak keetah, but she drank it and soon the residual pain lifted. She stood, a bit shaky at first, but after the initial dizziness passed, she was able to walk slowly around. In a far corner of the room, under one of the large windows, lay her mud encrusted shorts and, tucked within it, a bloody rag. Perhaps in haste as she was attended to, they were carelessly discarded. If she were lucky, the towas thought the rag had been used to absorb blood from the injury and not to hide the little dagger that she hoped still rested inside. Not wanting to elevate the rag’s importance, she turned away quickly and let it be.

  The natives watched her intently and she became self-conscious about being naked, even if they all were as well. Hoping to locate her backpack, she glanced about the room. She must make them understand what she was looking for.

  Her pantomime must have appeared ridiculous as she pretended to lift an invisible bag and put her arms through phantom straps; with a real backpack, it was awkward enough. The wives didn’t budge and just stared at her. Finally, one of them walked forward and tilted her head up to look at Elizabeth towering above her. Reaching out, she delicately brushed the human’s soft pubic hair. Elizabeth jumped back in surprise.

  Enough of this, I must find some clothes, she thought. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that her pack had made it. Feeling a bit light-headed, she walked to the shallow pit and lay among the pillows, pulling them close to help cover her. In no time, she was asleep.

  The towas shook her awake and tried to pull her from the pit. What was their problem now? She heard footsteps outside the door to the room and suddenly Sy Hone, Loeton’s pytor, stormed in and confronted Elizabeth. Embarrassed at her nakedness, she clutched the pillows in front of her. He sniffed the air and said in broken human, “Julian pytor, why Fistulee?” She had seen her standing next to Julian at Avram’s party. Evidently he assumed she was Julian’s bodyguard.

  “Julian is in Fistulee. That is where her servant should be,” she answered.

  “Servant?”

  “Pytor then,” Elizabeth corrected herself.

  “No! You go Bistoun, You go Gaia. Go.”

  “Where is Julian? Is she well?” Elizabeth tried to take the offensive, ignoring his demand.

  He pointed out of the room. “Julian.”

  “I must see her.”

  He grabbed her arm roughly and yanked her out of the pit. She lost her pillows and ended up standing in front of him, trying to cover herself with her arms and hands. He looked her over, finally pointing to her head. “Good. Go home.”

  “Where are my clothes? My pack…bag…” He obviously didn’t have much use for the word “clothes”. She searched to find a word he might understand, running her hand over her bare skin. “I need a wrap…something to cover me, to hide me, protect me…”

  Finally, he seemed to understand and spoke to one of the females, who ran out and brought back Elizabeth’s pack. Elizabeth tore it from the towa’s hands and put on her makeshift dress. She was amazed at what a difference clothing made, how much stronger and more secure she felt. Boldly, she approached the towan and demanded to see Julian, but the towan was not impressed. He took her by the arm and began to pull her.

  “Wait!” Elizabeth screamed. “Where is Sy Loeton?”

  Sy Hone stopped. Once again, Elizabeth marveled at the effect Loeton’s name had. “Sy Loeton comes …after dimness, after brightening.”

  She understood. Loeton wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

  “I will stay and serve Julian and Loeton as you do.” She could see he didn’t comprehend. Elizabeth looked him in the eye and pointed at his chest. “You are pytor. You serve Loeton.” She pointed to herself. “I am pytor. I serve Julian.” In desperation, she lowered her head and bowed slightly. “I will serve Loeton as well.”

  She felt he understood. At least he wasn’t dragging her out. She lifted her head, but remained slightly bowed. After an awkward moment, the towan said, “Come. Serve Julian.”

  He led her out into a hallway and past several large rooms. Turning a corner, they entered a tremendous windowed chamber. Elizabeth gasped. It was the largest indoor space she had ever seen. In the center of the space grew an immense tree surrounded by an explosion of colored flowers. Light filled the room from every direction through dozens of paneled, mineral windows that rose at least eight meters to a vaulted roof. The tree sat by a small stream that entered though one wall and disappeared out another.

  Glancing at Sy Hone for permission, Elizabeth walked to the windows to take a better look. The multi-storied house was surrounded by exterior gardens. She tried to grasp the size of this estate. It could have held twenty, maybe thirty homes the size of the Elstrada’s.

  “Come.” Sy Hone finally commanded. Elizabeth followed him until they stood in front of a massive door secured by a system of interlocking blue metal rings. She had pictured Julian’s prison cell in her mind countless times—the locked door, dingy interior, and sparse furnishings. The towan twisted the blue rings until they separated, and then swung the door aside.

  At first, Elizabeth couldn’t locate Julian. She had anticipated a confined space, but the door opened onto another immense, sunlit room, beautifully appointed with colorful woven rugs, carved stone table stands, and a plush mattress resting on a raised platform.

  “Elizabeth!” Julian’s small voice exclaimed. Elizabeth turned to see Julian, wearing the same dress as the night of the party, enter from a smaller antechamber. The gown looked entirely out of place. They hugged each other awkwardly, then Julian addressed the towan firmly, “Thank you for bringing Elizabeth to me. You may leave us now.”

  Hone growled a few native words and retreated, closing and locking the door behind him.

  “He hates it when I order him around. If it weren’t for his fear of Loeton he’d…oh my! Look at you. Come sit down, you look awful.” She led Elizabeth to the mattress and fussed about making her comfortable. “This is such a surprise…” she lowered her voice, “but you shouldn’t have come.”

  “Are you all right?” asked Elizabeth weakly.

  Julian waved the question off. “Why are you here? Jasin didn’t…”

  “No, Jasin’s not here.”

  “That’s good. Now tell me, what’s going on?”

  “I came to help…but ran into a little trouble. I’ll be fine.” Elizabeth took a deep breath and surveyed the room. “This isn’t what I expected.”

  “Loeton raises styke for slaughter. I gather most of the meat eaten in this region comes from his stockyards. He’s been quite successful.”

  “I meant…I expected you to be…I don’t know, a prisoner I guess.”

  Julian shrugged, “The door is still locked.”

  Elizabeth shut her eyes, fighting back the exhaustion and crushing headache that were clos
ing in. Her breathing was labored. “Do you think Loeton will let me stay?”

  “Only if he thinks he can control you, but why would you want to? Tell me, how’s Jasin? Is he doing all right?”

  “Jasin is…” she leaned forward to whisper in Julian’s ear, “he’s planning to rescue you.”

  Julian shook her head and let out a long sigh. “You’ve got to tell him not to. He has no idea what he’s up against.”

  “I’ve got no way to contact him.”

  Julian hesitated only a second. “You’ve got to leave. Find him. Tell him I’m fine. Go before Loeton returns. Sy Hone isn’t very smart. His job is to protect Loeton. He’ll want you to leave, but if Sy Loeton sees you here…” Julian paused.

  “What?” Elizabeth detected a hint of fear, something she had never sensed in Julian before.

  Julian turned cold and unemotional. “You’ll leave tomorrow and warn Jasin. Your staying is dangerous. There is no reason there has to be any more deaths.”

  Elizabeth’s mind was a blur. She had traveled all this way to help and now… She was dizzy again. Her head pounded.

  Julian continued, “Elizabeth, look around this place. Don’t be concerned about me. Tell Jasin I’m fine. Tell him not to do anything foolish. Listen to me…” She sat on the bed beside Elizabeth. “I’m an old lady and this is probably the most luxurious accommodations to be found anywhere on this snowball of a moon. I’m not suffering. Tell him…Elizabeth?”

  But Elizabeth had passed out.

  Julian’s light snoring greeted Elizabeth when she woke the following morning. She felt revived, her mind was clearer, but she was ravenous. How many meals had she missed in the last few days? She didn’t have a clue how long she had been in Fistulee, not more than three days she hoped, but she wasn’t sure. Had Rhan-da-lith occurred? Should she leave as Julian suggested? How could she warn Jasin? After all she had gone through to get here, the thought of leaving now was ridiculous.

  She understood Julian’s fear of losing her son, but there was no place she could help more than here. Julian would have to be convinced, because without Julian’s support, Loeton would have no reason to allow her pytor, her servant to stay. Elizabeth closed her eyes and listened to Julian beside her. She respected the old woman’s intelligence and quiet inner strength, but Julian had that same self-assured ruthless streak that Jasin had shown that last night in Nova Gaia. Julian tried to be kind, but rarely showed any warmth or love.

  Sy Hone arrived and took Elizabeth to a kitchen area where six towas were preparing several large platters of food. From the quantity, Elizabeth figured they could feed at least three-dozen towan. If that many actually lived here, Jasin’s plan was foolhardy. He would need her help just to survive.

  She fixed Julian’s breakfast, adding much more than Julian would eat, hoping to partake of the extra. With no one to accompany her, she headed back to Julian’s room. Strange. Why didn’t they worry about her movements? The answer became apparent as she approached Julian’s door. It was now guarded by a stern towan that Elizabeth recognized as the second companion Loeton had brought to the party. As long as they controlled Julian, they controlled her as well. The towan spun the blue metal rings to open Julian’s door and Elizabeth slipped inside.

  “You must be kidding,” Julian said, looking at the heaping tray. Then seeing Elizabeth smile, she understood. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to help me.”

  “I’d be happy to,” replied Elizabeth, a little embarrassed that her desire was so easily read. Julian nibbled at the food and watched Elizabeth eat enough for both of them.

  “Do you remember what I said yesterday?” asked Julian.

  Elizabeth, her mouth full, nodded.

  “If you don’t leave soon Loeton will be back, and then you may not be allowed to leave.”

  “There is absolutely no way for me to find or stop Jasin.”

  Julian shook her head. “You’re going to have to find a way. Staying here could be extremely dangerous for you.”

  “They’ve actually been quite nice to me, except Sy Hone.”

  “You mean, the towas have been nice,” Julian corrected. “As you pointed out, the males are different. They couldn’t care less about most females, of either race. As far as a towan is concerned, a towa is expendable, worth less than their cyliths. Sy Hone can’t comprehend my being treated as an honored guest. He wanted to strip me and throw me in with the other wives. Can you imagine?”

  Elizabeth turned red and scanned the room. “But Loeton treats you nicely.”

  Julian leaned closer. “I doubt he even knows which room they put me in. He has no interest in a tiny, dried up old hag. I’m just another towa in his eyes.” Julian pushed her plate back and rose. “But you’re a different story. You’ve got to leave before he finds out you’re here. Sy Loeton has everything this world can provide. From what I’ve gathered, from what Avram and Beloit learned, Sy Loeton is eccentric, in search of novelty and excitement. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Julian paused thoughtfully, then moved to Elizabeth’s side of the table. “Tell Jasin not to worry about me and please, please, don’t be mad.” Julian walked to the door and shouted, “Sy Hone! I want Sy Hone.”

  “What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked.

  Julian smiled, “You’re so young—”

  Sy Hone appeared at the door. Julian pointed at Elizabeth and demanded, “Send this servant away. She is bad. Put her out before Loeton learns you have made me angry. This servant does not please me.” Sy Hone jumped into action, escorting Elizabeth from the room, while Julian stood with her back turned.

  The towan dragged her down the hallway. Struggling only made Sy Hone tighten his vice-like grip on Elizabeth’s arm. Her mind was racing. There had to be a way she could stay. She understood what Julian was trying to do, but the woman didn’t understand how worthless she would be outside these walls. She would never find Jasin in time and he wouldn’t listen regardless. They turned the corner into the great arboretum and nearly collided into Sy Loeton himself. His cylith surged forward only to be restrained by Loeton’s firm grasp.

  “Sy Hone, what is this?” Elizabeth could not understand Loeton’s words although his agitation was clear.

  “A small matter that I am taking care of,” Hone answered.

  “Sy Loeton, respected sir,” Elizabeth blurted out and bowed deeply. She stared down at the cylith, and then with great effort forced herself to ignore the beast and look straight at Sy Loeton.

  “Sy Hone misunderstands my purpose here. Let me explain.” She straightened and cautiously moved away from Hone and closer to Loeton. The pytor’s rough grasp tightened, threatening to break through the skin on her arm. Elizabeth’s mind was whirling. What could she say? Forcing a smile and trying to ignore the presence of the cylith, she stepped even closer. The animal growled. “Do you remember me?” she said.

  Sy Loeton looked her over and when he took the expected sniff, Elizabeth leaned towards him. “Elizabeth Tournell…a big name for a big woman,” he said.

  “I am honored you remember.” She looked over at Sy Hone. “Sy Hone doesn’t understand our language as well as you do and is confused.”

  Sy Loeton turned to his pytor. “I have no time to deal with humans this morning. You must take care of this.” He turned to go, but Elizabeth panicked, reached out with her free hand and touched his arm.

  “Please! You don’t understand.” The cylith bared sharp teeth and lunged at her, but Sy Loeton fended off the attack with a swipe of his hand.

  Shaken, Elizabeth pleaded. Without regard for the truth, her words spilled out. “I am Julian’s servant. Since Julian belongs to you, by our sacred traditions, I also belong to you. I serve you now. Please do not disgrace me. I will serve you well. I will do anything you require of me. I…I can make you happy.”

  Loeton tilted his head and scrutinized Elizabeth. She shook off Sy Hone’s grasp, squared her shoulders, and defiantly stood as tall as she could. Her breasts pressed against
the crude lacing of her makeshift dress. Indifferent, Sy Loeton turned to his pytor, speaking in Sytonian again.

  “I have heard from Sy Toberry. The Rhan-da-lith approaches. We should leave today for the hilltop ceremony. Put this human in with the wives. I will deal with this after the darkness.” Then he left with his cylith beside him.

  Elizabeth didn’t understand what Loeton had said, but his abrupt departure wasn’t the result she had hoped for.

  “You are to stay with the towas,” Sy Hone said and reached out to grasp her arm once again.

  Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, then remembered how Julian was able to intimidate Sy Hone. She drew back. “I know the way,” she announced and headed for the wives’ quarters.

  Sy Hone followed a few steps behind. She resisted the desire to look over her shoulder. Instead, she straightened her back, raised her head, and walked down the corridor as if she owned the entire estate.

  When they arrived at the wives’ quarters, she turned to the pytor. “Thank you Sy Hone for seeing me safely to my room. You may go.”

  The towan stood expressionless, then Elizabeth, hiding a slight grin, turned and entered the room.

  Seven sets of identical eyes watched her as she retrieved her backpack and carried it over to her makeshift mattress. Her heart beat wildly and she lay down to regain her composure and rest. Elizabeth closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, waiting until the towas lost interest in her. After about ten minutes, she turned quietly and opened her eyes. A few towa jabbered away in the opposite corner, but apparently the rest had left the room. Elizabeth rolled off her mattress and took a few short steps to retrieve her shorts and bloody rags. She returned to her mattress and breathed deeply. Couldn’t they hear her heart pounding in her chest? She checked out the towa. No one had paid much notice. She felt the stiff, blood-soaked rag. Her knife still hid inside. She slid it under the mattress. Now she could relax. Both she and Julian were safe…at least for the moment.

  Loeton had mentioned Rhan-da-lith. Why would he care about that if it had not yet occurred? So Jasin hadn’t left Nova Gaia. Elizabeth figured it could be as many as eight or nine days until Jasin and Mas would arrive. Then what? What could she do to help them? How could she prepare? The more she considered Jasin’s plan to kill Loeton without witnesses, the more it seemed like lunacy. But if she was going to help Jasin succeed, she needed to gather more information. Where did Loeton spend his time? Was he ever alone? She would need to get close to him.

  The planet Conboet, and her two moons, Syton and Eian, orbit each other and their sun in such a complex dance that no one ever bothered to predict the countless partial eclipses. The shadows that raced across Syton’s face were largely ignored, a minor inconvenience now and again. But occasionally, an extended eclipse fell upon the Syton gorge bringing a full day of absolute darkness—the Rhan-da-lith. The orbital geometry was complex and no one was able to predict its occurrence…no one except Sy Toberry. The towan was able to predict its arrival, and to give his people ample warning. When asked how he accomplished this, he simply claimed it was intuition born from experience. Everyone accepted this since Toberry was the oldest towan anyone knew or had ever heard of.

  Traditionally, Sytonians gathered with their closest comrades during this celestial phenomenon. It was a time of bonding and mutual comfort. So whenever Toberry predicted a Rhan-da-lith, Loeton left his vast estate, his many wives, children, and servants—none that held his love, trust, or allegiance—and traveled into the hills overlooking Lake Chook, across the lake from the Wynosk cabin. There he experienced the darkness and waited for the brightening with his towdom, a small but fiercely loyal group of fellow towans, who have sworn lasting allegiance to each other. Many in Sy Loeton’s towdom were bound together by their initiation, either having been initiated by Loeton, or in Sy Loeton’s case, being an initiate of Sy Toberry himself.

  “Sy Toberry, it is good to see you,” Loeton greeted his mentor. “Let us hope this gathering is somewhat less exciting than the last time we shared food and drink.” Loeton’s cylith approached the elder towan. Distant thunder rumbled through the pitch-black sky.

  “It should be. The closest humans are across the lake.” Toberry knelt down to inspect the animal. “How old is he now?”

  “This will be our forty-third dark passage together.”

  “Remarkable. You are lucky.”

  “He eats well,” said Loeton. Toberry nodded and buried his head in the deep fur of the cylith’s ruff. They were old friends.

  Sy Hone joined them just as a flash of lightning lit up Mount Schtolin’s distant peak. “Unusual. I can’t remember another ceremony where it stormed. But it should hold off until we’re finished,” Sy Hone predicted. “Come…let’s begin”

  Toberry and Loeton followed Hone down a short rocky path, illuminated by a string of torches, to a clearing. The group numbered just less than a dozen, mostly older towans and their cyliths. They acknowledged each other, but their attention was in the direction of the Lake.

  “The glow is spectacular tonight,” commented one of them.

  The normal bioluminescence found along the Andoree had infiltrated Lake Chook, and from this extraordinary vantage point, the full shape of the large bay stood out in sharp relief even in the darkness.

  “It’s an unusual large bloom this year,” added Toberry. Another flash of lightning and accompanying thunderclap struck nearby.

  “The rain is coming. We should start,” said Sy Hone, who moved to extinguish the torches along the path.

  Sy Toberry nodded and gathered the towdom together. “Sons of the day, we gather together once again to endure the darkness and find comfort in companionship. As this darkness descends let our spirits be lifted with the knowledge that light will return, goodness and beauty will—”

  Suddenly a massive stroke of lightning split the sky above them. One end of the bolt struck the surface of the lake, stimulating the already bright plankton, and caused it to glow as if it were aflame. The bright eerie light not only illuminated the entire lake but the shore as well. The group turned to look at the phenomenon.

  On the surface of the water, as if the lightning had left a scar, was a brilliant spot. As the natives watched, the spot grew even brighter until…a large oblong mass broke through the surface of the water in the direct center of the glow. Billions of glowing organisms spilled off its sides. Rising out of the water was a form that the towans had not seen in over thirty years. Powerful, swirling eddies surrounded it as the dark shape labored to keep itself afloat.

  The last symbol of human technical superiority, the flying craft supposedly destroyed, set aflame and discarded forever, had brought itself to the surface. Within minutes, the jets subsided and the shuttle gracefully descended.

  And on the opposite shore, illuminated by the fading glow off the lake, the natives could see two humans, an adult and a little boy, turn from the scene and calmly walk back to their cabin.

  The Andoree

  Mas’s sputtering torch cast long shadows through the courtyard. By its amber light, Jasin tied down the last of their provisions to his blaython. He took one last look around the spacious compound. Now, memories alone inhabited the only home he’d ever known. He wondered who’d take it over if he didn’t return. If he had only managed the relationship with Elizabeth better, perhaps she could have stayed and watched over the house. He pictured himself returning triumphant with Julian; Elizabeth running to great them. But he knew in his heart, Elizabeth wouldn’t have been content house sitting. She would have forced him to take her with. No, this was as it should be. He cinched the leather straps holding their bags tighter. “We’re going to be short of biscuits,” he said finishing.

  Mas extinguished the flame in the dirt. “Better biscuits than water.”

  They stood in the darkness of Rhan-da-lith with only the starlight shining through holes in the clouds to illuminate the path out of the compound. Lightning flashed in the distance. “Looks lik
e a storm over the canyon.”

  “Looks farther away than that,” said Mas. “Over Lake Chook, maybe.”

  Jasin nodded and mounted his blaython.

  They didn’t speak as they followed the trail into town, knowing well what occupied the other’s thoughts—death was as reasonable an outcome of their plan as success. Occasionally, clouds obscured the precious starlight and they were forced to halt in fear of losing the trail all together. The streets of Nova Gaia were deserted and they slipped through under the protection of complete darkness. They travelled as quietly as possible afraid that any sound would give them away. Each noisy step seemed like a cannon shot and they hurried to put distance between themselves and the town. An hour passed until finally they felt like they could speak.

  “I think it’s almost morning, but it’s difficult to tell,” said Mas. They had fallen into a steady, deliberate cadence, pacing themselves in order to cover as much distance during the darkness as possible.

  “At this time of the year, you’ll see the Circle constellation set just before dawn.” Jasin pointed to the group of partially obscured stars that was still above the horizon. “It looks like we’d normally have at least a couple of hours before brightening.”

  “Learn that stuff from Avram?”

  “My mom. Sometimes when I was young, I’d look out my bedroom window and she’d be standing in the yard studying the stars. I’d climb out of bed and join her. She had names for the star groupings. Avram thought it was a silly waste of time, but I enjoyed it…quiet time…with my mom.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “Didn’t you and your aunt or uncle do anything special like that?”

  “By the time I came to live with them, they had already raised their own kids. I guess they were tired.”

  It was always hard for Jasin to relate to Mas’s childhood—no father that anyone knew of and a mother that died in childbirth. Perhaps that explained why Mas enjoyed being around the Elstrada household—a chance to experience a real family.

  They plodded forward. Off to their left, the bulk of the Trinity range hid the lowest stars and storm clouds hid most of the others. They relied heavily on the few pinpricks of light that broke through. Like most in the Syton gorge, they had only experienced the Rhan-da-lith indoors or surrounded by fire. Neither of them had expected the darkness to be so smothering and oppressive.

  “We have to try to get back on a normal schedule or we’ll be messed up after Rhan-da-lith. We should push through and not stop for sleep until next evening,” Jasin suggested.

  “Whenever that will be.”

  “The stars will tell us.”

  Jasin looked ahead, trying to detect the valley pass Elizabeth would have taken to Panvera. He was glad she was safe. His heart ached every time he thought about the pain he had caused her their last night together. He tried to ignore the guilt that welled up inside him, but it burned in his gut like he had swallowed a smoldering ember.

  By mid-morning, stars appeared through the shallow V-shaped notch between the mountain ranges, and they left behind the cut-off that led to Panvera. Several hours later they entered the outskirts of the forest and pulled off the main canyon road and into a clearing where they hoped to find a trail down into the canyon and to the river .

  “This area is used by traders and the people of Cernai. Beloit and I have witnessed a dozen exchanges here. Mostly glowsticks, keetah and other drugs,” commented Jasin. “Let’s have a bit of lunch.”

  Mas didn’t hesitate and pulled out a couple of pieces of dried meat and a container of water. In the dark, Mas felt around for a couple appropriate rocks and put his aching feet up. They ate in silence.

  Unlike Mas, Jasin couldn’t rest. He walked into the woods a short distance before returning with bad news. “It will be much slower going on from here. The forest trails will be difficult to follow in the dark. The starlight isn’t penetrating the tree canopy.”

  “Then why not rest here until we get a little light?”

  Jasin peered up into the sky. The storm clouds were moving rapidly. “I get the impression that the bad weather hasn’t dissipated. If anything, it will get darker over the next few hours.”

  “What do you want to do?” asked Mas.

  “If it begins to rain, I’d rather be under cover of the trees. We’re not going to start down into the canyon until after Rhan-da-lith, so it’s fine to take it slow. I think it’s safe to light the lantern and we’ll move on.”

  As soon as they entered the dark forest, they realized they had made a mistake. The travel lantern projected only a small circle of faint light. Without a clear trail, they became lost and confused.

  “As long as we’re in the woods, we’re either traveling towards the canyon or the village of Cernai.”

  “Or in circles,” added Mas.

  “Or in circles,” agreed Jasin. “All right, let’s call it quits. Maybe later there’ll be enough light to find a trail.

  They made camp. Jasin insisted they take a few minutes to construct a simple lean-to in case it rained. Then extinguishing the lantern, they settled in. Sleep should have come easily—they had been up for thirty hours—but it proved elusive. They passed the time with small talk, avoiding the subject of Elizabeth.

  Mas was the first to nod off, leaving Jasin to listen to the rustle of leaves in the treetops. Then along with the distant thunder, almost like a whisper traveling on the wind, a haunting melody rose and fell. Growing in strength, a voice of pure emotion sent forth a message of loneliness and intense desire. He rolled over and woke Mas.

  “Shh, just listen…” Jasin whispered.

  Captured by the song’s spell, they lay still, until the wordless aria drifted away on the same enchanted wind it arrived on. To answer Mas’s unspoken question, Jasin whispered, “Towa song.” Then, as if they had been sung a lullaby, they turned over and slept, interrupted only once during the night by light drizzle.

  Jasin rose first and made a large circle around their camp looking for any trails that might help them. A hazy light filtered through the trees and a slight wind rustled their leaves, releasing captured raindrops that fell refreshingly on his face. Inattentively, he stepped over a fallen but healthy tree; its leaves still green. He stopped short and turned to examine the trunk. It showed no sign of disease. He followed the fallen tree to its base and discovered a shattered stump standing at least a meter off the ground. It showed burn marks—but this tree hadn’t been burned down. Some great force had severed this tree in one mighty explosion. Possibly lightning, thought Jasin, or more likely the renegades in Cernai had developed an explosive—more forbidden technology. They were becoming a major problem. When he finished with Sy Loeton, he would deal with these troublemakers. Every time they broke a Prohibition, the peace between the races was threatened.

  He laughed to himself as he made his way back to their little camp. He was planning to murder a high-ranking official of the Sytonian Council—probably dying in the process—and he was concerned that some minor invention by a bunch of misfit hermits might harm the peace. Yet, some explosives might be useful in Fistulee. As an Enforcer, he was surprised at the thought. How far had he fallen?

  As Jasin approached their campsite, he could see Mas wandering around looking for something.

  Mas asked, “Did you put the lantern somewhere? I thought it was next to us when we fell asleep last night.”

  “I didn’t touch it. Maybe you put it back?”

  Mas shook his head and walked over to where their blaython was tied. “Damn!” He threw up his arms and grabbed his head. “All the food is gone; the lantern is gone; our spare clothing is gone. Jasin?”

  “Don’t move about. The ground is damp. We might be able to find footprints.”

  The area immediately around the blaython was quite trampled, so they widened the search. Unable to find any signs, Jasin concluded, “They must have stolen the stuff before the rain.”

  “What should we do?” asked Mas


  “Only one thing we can do. We’ve got to make a side visit to Cernai to pick up provisions.”

  “I thought you wanted to stay out of sight.”

  Jasin shrugged, “What choice to we have?”

  He and Beloit had endured a good deal of professional ridicule concerning the Village of Cernai. For most humans, it was an embarrassment. Cernai didn’t attract those that believed in law and order, or clung to the notion of social responsibility. If you found beauty in organization, planning or cleanliness, you simply didn’t live there.

  After a frustrating morning of dead end trails and backtracking, Jasin and Mas finally led the blaython into the village of Cernai where they wandered among the various houses and craft shops attempting to purchase supplies. Cold shoulders and inhospitable stares greeted them everywhere.

  “I think they may recognize you,” said Mas.

  “I doubt it. Visitors of any sort aren’t common here.”

  They heard the squabbling before finding the crowd gathered around merchandise laid out on the ground, a market of sorts. They pushed their way into the mass to see what was for sale. Among the vegetables and odd trinkets were familiar packages of dried meat, biscuits, bundles of clothing and of course, their lantern.

  The wizened salesman looked up at them. “Ah, here we have some interested souls. Would you like to buy a shirt or two? I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were your size.”

  “Of course they’re our size, you thief,” exclaimed Mas.

  Jasin laid a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder. “How much for the whole package?”

  Stunned, Mas turned to face his companion. “You’re not serious.”

  “How much for all our gear?” Jasin repeated.

  “You can have all your stuff back for two blue or a dozen decent meitas.”

  “So you admit the merchandise is ours,” said Mas.

  The salesman shrugged his shoulders, “If you say so…the price is still firm.”

  Mas reached over and grabbed the man by his shirtfront and lifted him to a standing position. Leaning forward he growled, “Be on your way, thief, and count yourself lucky I don’t break your neck.”

  The old man didn’t flinch. Instead he leaned into Mas and whispered, “Fool…pay me and consider yourself lucky I don’t kill you.” The man drew away slightly and looked down between them. Mas followed his gaze and saw the gray knife held to his gut. Instinctively Mas shoved the man away exposing the weapon. As if by prearranged signal, primitive knives appeared on almost every person in the crowd and they held them towards either Mas or Jasin. Eyes nervously shifted about, waiting for someone to make the first move.

  Jasin broke the tension. “Two blue seems like a fair price.”

  The crowd put away their crude weapons. With nothing left to buy the villagers dispersed. Jasin leaned over and dug through a bundle of his clothing to retrieve a small leather poke. The salesman stepped on Jasin’s hand, pinning it to the ground.

  “And just what do you think you’re doing?” the man asked.

  “Getting your money so we can be on our way.” Jasin winced as the man applied even more weight.

  “What’s on the ground is mine until you pay. If you would like to purchase these items you must pay with your own money...or trade.” The salesman looked over at the blaython. “You have a fine beast there. Worth two blue easy.”

  “You’re not serious. The animal is worth ten times that.” Mas blurted out.

  Jasin extracted his arm and said, “My friend is right. The animal is worth much more than what’s on the ground. Perhaps you could sweeten the deal a little.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I have a need for something…to clear trees or rocks from my property. Perhaps you might be able to provide something helpful in that regard, shall we say, something powerful.”

  Mas, confused, looked at his friend.

  “What is it…trees or rocks?” The salesman smiled at the awkward lie. Jasin, unmasked, simply smiled back.

  “Come on, Jasin. Let’s not fool around here. We’ve wasted the whole morning.” said Mas.

  “I have no idea what you think we might have.” The old man said with a shrug.

  “Oh, I think you do. Now, you’d like the blaython and I’d like something that could blow a healthy tree down. I’ve seen an example just off the trader’s clearing. I’ll pay double whatever you’re getting for it.”

  “Now who would want to kill a nice tree?” The wrinkled villager laughed, shook his head, and turned away, beckoning for them to follow.

  They passed several small huts, receiving dozens of curious looks before coming to a large, fancy multi-room abode. The salesman called out, “Demos, I have a couple of gents here that would like to talk. You in there?”

  A younger man, with a hooked nose and darting eyes cautiously came to the doorway. He scrutinized Jasin and Mas, then looked past them to see who else may have been seen them come to his door.

  “These gentlemen are in need of some of your new stuff,” the salesman said, turning to go, “They’re good for double. Just make sure I get my commission. You two come find me when you’re done. I’ll be checking out my new blaython.”

  Jasin and Mas followed Demos back inside and sat where they were instructed. “How much do you need?” he growled, opening up a yellow sack with blue trim. It was an unusual bag made of a shiny material neither Jasin or Mas had seen before. Jasin felt awkward. He should be arresting this man instead of purchasing his wares.

  “One or two should do. We need to blow through a wall,” answered Jasin, trying to sound like he knew what he was asking for.

  Demos cocked his head towards them and scowled. “You dimwits don’t even know what you’re asking for. How’d you find out about it? Never mind, I already know. That idiot trader, am I right? Of course I am. Listen, I’m not going to explain this to you twice. If you don’t listen carefully, you’ll blow yourself up, understand?

  “I’ll sell you a full tube, which you can split if you want. I’ll give you a couple empties and here are the covers you’ll need. They’re easy to lose. Just be careful. To set them, you place the smaller tube upside down inside one of these larger tubes where you’ve combined the detonator mix. Now depending on how long a delay you want, you adjust the mix of these two liquids here. Are you getting this? The more yellow, the longer it takes to heat up. Mostly yellow, you’ve got maybe half an hour. A nice blue-green is what I recommend. You got it? You understand? Don’t ever just use the blue, or you will lose a hand altogether. I don’t care mind you. Just don’t be coming back here crying. I’ve never seen you guys. Understand? Once you’re gone, you’re gone.”

  He gathered the tubes, covers, and the detonator chemicals, and placed them all in a crude native sack. “Now that will be four blue, or a green if you want a piece of advice.”

  “What’s the advice?” asked Mas.

  Demos held out his hand.

  “I’ll pay you when we retrieve our stuff.” Jasin stood up.

  “What is this, some kind of trick?” Demos complained.

  Mas stood as well and slapped Demos good-naturedly on the back. “Come on, bring the stuff. You’ll have your crystals in a minute, and then you can come back and hide.”

  Unsure of this turn of events, Demos followed them back to where they had left the blaython. The old salesman had collected all their belongings and was now busy inspecting the creature’s hooves.

  “That didn’t take long,” he said, straightening up. “Everything settled?”

  “Almost,” said Jasin. “One last question. We are looking for a path directly down to the river from here. We don’t want to backtrack. We were hoping you might know of such a path.”

  Frustrated, the salesman asked, “Now just to be straight, there are no more hidden terms? I get the blaython and you get this stuff and the location of a path down to the river. Is that the deal?”

  Jasin nodded.

&
nbsp; “Done!” the salesman said firmly.

  “What about my green?” asked Demos.

  “You’ll get your crystal. Just relax,” said Mas.

  Jasin gathered their belongings, paying particular attention to the contents of his small leather pouch that contained the crystals. He removed a green and handed it to Demos, who gave him the rough sack and turned to leave.

  “Hey, I thought you had some advice for us?” Jasin yelled after him.

  Demos stopped and turned. Pointing to the bag he had just given Jasin, he said, “I suggest you leave that here.” He waited for some response from Jasin, who merely smiled. Demos shrugged and shuffled back to his fancy hut.

  The wrinkled salesman took the blaython’s reins and guided them out of the village and on to a well-traveled path. It clearly descended into the canyon. Jasin addressed him coldly. “Listen carefully. If anyone from Cernai attempts to follow us, or talks about our passage, we will return with a dozen friends and burn your stinking town of thieves to the ground. Do you understand?”

  “We aren’t thieves. You shouldn’t be accusing anyone without proof. No one from Cernai stole your things,” replied the old man clearly upset. He pulled the blaython around. “Your stuff was found scattered throughout the village at the brightening.” The man yelled over his shoulder as he headed back to the village.

  “Can you believe the manure that guy was handing out?” exclaimed Mas.

  “I think I may believe him. They never opened my poke. I’m carrying enough crystals to buy a dozen blaythons. If they’re thieves, they are the worst I’ve ever encountered. All that was missing was some food. Maybe the real thief was merely hungry.”

  “So why take our other stuff? No, you’re wrong. The real thief just left with our blaython.”

  Jasin and Mas lost no time in beginning their descent into the canyon. The path was clear, but quite steep, and they’d often slip and slide in the loose gravel. “You knew the blaython would be worthless on this path, didn’t you?” asked Mas.

  Jasin smiled. “Actually, I had hoped he’d be helpful getting down into the canyon, but I knew that the blaython would never make it across the river.”

  The trail narrowed and Mas took the lead. At one point, the edge of the path had broken loose and erosion left only a thin ledge, just the width of a foot. Now, Jasin’s gamble to trade the blaython seemed like genius. By leaning into the hill, they carefully made their way past this precarious section. Over the next several hours, they made good time. Occasionally, they would carelessly step too close to the edge and dislodge rocks and gravel, causing them to pause and listen as the debris nosily disappeared into the depths below.

  Hours passed and the sun eventually sank behind the canyon rim, casting a shadow over the trail. Unable to find sure footholds, they were forced to rest for the night. As evening darkened the entire canyon, they were once again treated to the eerie melody of towa song, but instead of riding the wind, tonight’s enchantment reverberated off the surrounding rock walls.

  “The singing seems closer than last night,” said Jasin.

  Mas nodded absently as he fussed over the lantern.

  “Something wrong with that?”

  “Not a thing. You hungry?” asked Mas.

  “A little…mostly thirsty.”

  Mas sorted through several canteens until he found one with more than a mouthful of water, and tossed it over to Jasin. “Where did you put those leather straps we used to secure the packs to the blaython?” Mas asked.

  “They’re in the bottom of the large brown pack.”

  Mas dug out a long strap and tied it between the lantern and his wrist. “Just playing it safe,” Mas said quietly. He extinguished the light and settled back on his ground cloth, gathering the packs between them. They lay quietly, listening to the towa song, and soon they were fast asleep.

  In the weak light of early morning, Jasin rose to relieve himself. Upon returning, he looked over at his slumbering companion and laughed.

  Mas woke. “What’s so funny?” he said with a yawn.

  “Your prey stole the bait,” Jasin answered, referring to the leather strap tied to his friend’s wrist. The other end lay unattached in the dirt.

  “Damn! Whoever it is must really want that lantern.”

  “Or it was the easiest thing to steal.” Jasin knelt, staring at a small patch of ground near where the lantern had been. Unlike yesterday, here the dirt held footprints. Mas joined Jasin and together they followed the small three-toed impressions for a few minutes until they disappeared off the trail and over the edge into a steep ravine. “It doesn’t make any sense,” said Jasin thoughtfully.

  “A towa? I guess you were right about the villagers.”

  Jasin carefully checked his footing and leaned far over the edge but he couldn’t see any further signs. Why steal the lantern again? Presumably, the same thief had stolen it yesterday and had returned it. The only thing not returned was some of the food. He jolted to attention. “We’ve got to get back to the camp quickly…and as quietly as possible,” he whispered.

  But it was too late. The contents of their packs were scattered on the ground and another food packet was missing. The lantern sat on the exact spot it had been stolen from. “Very clever,” said Mas, as he repacked their bags. “I’ve never heard of a rogue towa.”

  “Especially one who’s fertile,” added Jasin. “Towa song like that is a mating call. She’s hungry, lonely, and wants a towan.”

  The trail continued to widen, and near the bottom of the canyon, became a series of serpentine vales that emptied into an extensive marsh. A putrid smell from rotting vegetation was their reward for a successful descent. They turned away from the highlands, and skirted the marsh along its muddy perimeter, eventually coming to a shallow river. “Is this the Andoree?” asked Mas.

  Jasin looked at the position of the sun and then at the steep cliffs across the water before answering. “I think the Andoree is about an hour’s travel from here.” He opened one of the packs, took out a biscuit, and unfolded a map he had taken from the study. “My guess is we are about here.” He indicated a point on the map with a corner of his biscuit.

  Mas nodded, but was too busy taking his boots off to take a look. He walked barefoot to the edge of the water, carefully waded in, and wiggled his toes in the rough sand. He let out a moan of delight as the cool water soothed his travel worn feet.

  Jasin walked over and handed Mas the remaining half of his biscuit. He swatted at a flying insect on the back of his neck. “Hopefully, our unseen traveling companion doesn’t intend to follow us across the river. We don’t have enough food for two of us, much less a third,” he said.

  “Aren’t you curious to see her?” Mas asked.

  “All the ones I’ve seen look alike.” Jasin peered across the marsh. A cloud of small black bugs swirled about. Before he could mention it, the swarm was upon them.

  “Time to go,” Mas declared as he jumped up and shoved the biscuit into his mouth. He grabbed his boots and they hurried off the sandbar.

  Over the next few hours, they hiked along the Canyon River until it finally merged with the Andoree. “We were further up the canyon than I thought.” said Jasin, looking back. They turned their attention to the wide river flowing strongly before them, the opposite shore where the Kull began appeared a great distance away.

  “Weren’t there supposed to be islands here?” asked Mas.

  Jasin pulled out the map and they huddled over it, comparing real landmarks to what was shown. “Those are the high cliffs across the Canyon River and the gradual sloping ground on this side. All that’s missing are the two islands.”

  “Without those islands we’ll never make it across against this current,” Mas observed.

  Jasin looked at the flowing water. Mas was right. There was a healthy surge coming in from the Great Lake, moving from right to left. Suddenly the answer to the missing islands was clear—water was moving in. “The islands are just belo
w the surface, hidden by the high tide,” he explained to Mas.

  “If we cross now, will we still be able to use the islands?”

  “If the map is accurate, we should be able to find and stand on them to rest.”

  “And if the map isn’t accurate?”

  Jasin detected a hint of concern in his friend’s question. “Then it will be a long swim,” he answered with a laugh.

  “Jasin…I haven’t done much swimming.” Mas turned away.

  Embarrassment? Jasin had never seen this from his friend. Mas, who could best him in any activity, couldn’t swim. “When were you going to tell me?

  “I think we should wait until the water is shallower and we can see the islands,” Mas offered.

  “When were you going to tell me?” repeated Jasin.

  Mas turned to face his friend. “I…I figured that we would find something to float on, or maybe use the canteens. I don’t know…put the empties in a bag or something. I was hoping you would figure something out. I wasn’t about to spoil the whole plan over it.”

  Jasin walked to the water’s edge and looked at the far shore. All of a sudden, it seemed a lot farther away. He knelt down and tasted the water. As he feared, the Andoree was bitter, filled with accumulated minerals, salts, and waste from towns along its path. They should fill the canteens from the fresh water of the Canyon River before they attempted to cross. He looked around for anything else that would help float his friend across. Finding nothing he walked back to Mas.

  “If you do what I say and don’t panic, we’ll float across without any problem.”

  Mas looked worried but hid behind brave words. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll make it.”

  They filled the canteens from the clear crisp water of the Canyon River, and using the leather straps, bound them together with all the supplies into a single package that Jasin could drag behind him. When the current finally eased, Jasin pointed out the direction they would have to swim in order to reach the closest submerged island. It wasn’t the most direct route across the water, but Jasin promised it would be the easiest. “We’ll make it in three legs, with two rests. The first island is the biggest. We can’t miss it. It fills the mouth of the Canyon River where it joins the main channel of the Andoree. It should be right there.” He pointed at the open expanse of water.

  “I’ll follow you,” said Mas doubtfully.

  “No. You’re going to float on your back in front of me. I’ll direct you.” Jasin took off his pants and tied tight knots in both cuffs, and after filling the legs with air, he rolled the waist and used his belt to close it off. Mas followed suit. “It won’t last forever, but it should give us some buoyancy for a few minutes. Now, you’ve got to relax and let the water support you. Just worry about moving in the right direction.” They waded into the still water and Jasin jammed his air-filled pants under the supplies. “Use yours around your neck,” suggested Jasin. “Now, lie back slowly and move out.”

  Mas obeyed without hesitation and started swimming on his back into deeper water. Jasin got him going in the right direction and soon they were over their heads. He listened to Mas’s labored breathing. As long as Mas didn’t panic, they would be all right.

  They had been swimming for over ten minutes when Jasin felt a pull behind him. The pack had sunk and was pulling him down. Jasin’s strong arms dug into the water, pulling his body forward. His legs kicked until they began to cramp. He lifted his head and could see that the air had also escaped from Mas’s pants and his head was in danger of submerging. Swim harder, he told himself, but he wasn’t moving. The more he struggled the more he was pulled down. He turned onto his back and yanked the strap as hard as he could. He felt it give a little. He tugged again and again, but it wasn’t moving and suddenly he felt panic overtake him. He gulped a mouthful of brackish water, coughing as some found its way into his burning lungs.

  Strong arms suddenly grabbed his waist and held him. “Put your feet down,” Mas suggested. “We’re there.”

  Embarrassed, Jasin stood. They were in about a meter of water. “The pack…it must be caught,” Jasin said breathlessly.

  Mas ducked under and freed the pack. It had torn and spilled some of its contents. The explosives Jasin had just purchased in Cernai were gone.

  “Well that was a waste of a green. Next leg, I should let you drag the pack.”

  They rested until both of them felt they were ready to attack leg two. Jasin pointed out the direction, and after reinflating their makeshift floats, they walked until the water was nearly over their heads and began swimming. This time at the first tug from the submerged pack Jasin tested the depth and found he could just stand.

  The third leg was quite a bit longer, but they didn’t have to worry about finding any hidden islands. They could head directly across. Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in their underwear on shore. Everything they owned was soaked, but they were ecstatic. Mas slapped Jasin on the back. “Welcome to the Kull, Enforcer. You want to arrest me now or later?”

  Using the last remnant of light, they moved ashore, unpacked their bags, and laid out their soaked bedrolls and clothing, hoping that by morning they could be rolled up dry. The preserved meat and nuts would survive, but the biscuits were mush and they dumped the mess away from their makeshift camp to prevent another insect invasion. Mas tried unsuccessfully to light the wet lantern, while Jasin ate a few mouthfuls of jerky and drank a half-cup of water. Mas joined him and they finished eating in silence.

  The temperature had risen substantially over the last few days as they descended into the canyon, but it still wasn’t warm enough to remove the chill from two tired, almost naked men. They sat with their backs towards the desert and scanned the hills across the river that they had just left behind. Reflected light from Conboet painted the high cliffs and canyon walls a dull yellow-green. Now, without the warmth from the sun they began to shiver.

  “The water sucked the heat right out of us,” complained Jasin.

  Looking over his shoulder at the mysterious dark expanse they intended to cross, Mas said, “I thought the Kull was supposed to be hot.”

  “They call it a cold desert.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” said Mas, rising to check whether any of the clothes or blankets might provide some warmth. “It’s going to be a rough night.” He returned empty-handed to sit beside Jasin, who soon dozed off, but Mas’s shivering grew more severe, preventing any chance that he too might find comfort in sleep.

  After half an hour of restlessness, Mas once again heard the desperate towa song. He stood and walked slowly towards the river where the sound seemed to emanate. On the opposite shore, stood a tiny towa, silhouetted by Conboet’s eerie, dim light. She was a mere speck this far away, but Mas quickly hid amongst a few boulders where he could still watch and listen without being seen. It was warmer among the massive rocks that still retained some of the day’s heat and he was able to stop shaking. The towa continued her mournful plea. Her song continued for a long time, and when she was finished, she sat in the sand and stared across the river. Mas watched the alien until sleep overcame him.

  He must have slept for several hours, for when he woke, Conboet had set and a bright sliver of Eian had taken its place. The river shimmered in its glow. The islands were now uncovered and Mas noticed that except for two deep cuts they were practically connected. If only they had waited, their passage might have been much easier. In fact, Mas noted, the towa appeared to agree, for she was wading out onto the first island, which now seemed merely a submerged extension of the far shore. When she got to the deep cut between the first and second island, she hesitated.

  “I wonder just how hungry she really is,” Mas muttered to himself. As if to answer, the towa lunged into the water and began an uncoordinated attempt to swim to the second island. Mas’s jaw dropped as the towa struggled against drowning. Her round head bobbed as she gasped for air. Her little arms and legs barely moved her, but after a valiant effort she
pulled herself up on the second island. “Now she’s trapped,” Mas thought out loud.

  The little towa paced back and forth, first looking at the far shore and then back at where she had come from.

  “Turn around…go back,” coaxed Mas under his breath. The towa looked up towards the boulders, as if she heard him, and without another moment of hesitation, launched herself towards him. Mas groaned and shrunk back behind the boulders.

  The towa struggled to make headway. She thrust both her arms forward while making a jumping motion with her legs. When she became tired, she would roll on her back and kick her legs. Her progress was slow and noisy.

  Mas peeked over the top of the rock. The small swimmer had barely made it a quarter of the way across. Soon it became clear that her energy was fading. More and more of her effort seemed to be spent keeping her head above water. “Float…just relax and float,” Mas pleaded quietly. She seemed to get a second wind, and for a few minutes, resumed her awkward swimming, before quickly tiring again. The slight current slowly carried her down the river with the outgoing tide.

  Mas stepped out from behind the rock and kept pace along the riverbank. He looked back toward Jasin and screamed, “Jasin!” But his friend didn’t move. He screamed again and then turned to find the small dark head.

  Mas ran down the bank until he was even with her. He scanned the shore, looking for some way to help her. She was still alive, but hardly swimming. Occasionally she’d tilt her head back for air, but she was exhausted and the tide moved her swiftly away. Again, running along the shore he got ahead of her and waded into the water. It was almost low tide and he walked out as far as he could, but he could tell that the towa would pass him with several meters of deep water between them. “Swim you stupid creature!” he yelled. “Come on, I can’t help you if you don’t swim.”

  The Kull

  The towa rocked back and forth on her middle leg watching intently as Jasin and Mas struggled into their damp clothes. She called herself Li Sy. Her name was all the little towa was willing to disclose and Jasin quickly lost interest in attempting further communications. Mas, however, wouldn’t give up and continued to engage Li Sy while they gathered their belongings and repacked their bags.

  “Li Sy, trying to cross the river if you can’t swim was really quite dangerous,” Mas scolded. “I know what I’m talking about, believe me.”

  “I’m sure the dumb little creature doesn’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  “Well, she’d better learn, because there’s no way that I will ever speak her language.” Mas dug out a handful of nuts and a few pieces of dried fruit, and split the meager breakfast between them. Li Sy wasted no time devouring her share.

  Jasin eyed the towa with disdain. Li Sy had complicated matters. If they abandoned the small creature, she might tell others about their entry into the Kull. On the other hand, if she came along they would run out of food and water long before reaching the mountains. “With what she already stole from us and the ruined biscuits, we won’t have enough food for all three of us,” said Jasin.

  “You didn’t think there would be enough food for the two of us to begin with.”

  Jasin nodded thoughtfully, “What do you think we should do with her?”

  “Kill her, I guess,” Mas answered with a smirk. “Come on Jasin, relax. She risked her life to join us, are you suggesting that we might leave her here?”

  “That wouldn’t be my first choice. She’s a liability either way. Let’s get going and see whether she’ll follow. Maybe she’s done with us. Maybe she just wanted a little sack time with you and found you a bit deficient in that department.” It was Jasin’s turn to crack a smile.

  The two men grabbed their packs and struck off toward the mountains. Li Sy showed no sign she cared to follow, but before they had taken a half dozen steps the naked towa ran to them and yanked at their arms to stop.

  “I guess she doesn’t want us to go,” said Jasin.

  Getting their attention, Li Sy ran back to where they had discarded the soggy biscuits and motioned them to come over. Reluctantly, they joined her. She squatted over the sodden mess. Small insects infested what remained of the ruined food. She picked up a piece and stuffed it into her mouth, bugs and all.

  “Oh…” Jasin turned his head away in disgust.

  “Maybe she’s not as dumb as you believe,” said Mas, who knelt down, brushed the insects aside and began scooping the mess into one of their now empty food pouches. “If she’s willing to eat this, there will be more of the other food for us.”

  “Maybe you should leave the bugs in,” Jasin said half seriously.

  The towa appeared to agree as she helped Mas top off the pouches with the protein enriched biscuit mash.

  Jasin took the lead and the three trekked into the Kull. Flat terrain with scattered patches of stubby sparse vegetation stretched out in front of them. An occasional dusty ridge crossed their path and once, in mid-afternoon, they followed a gully that looked like an ancient dried up riverbed. So far, they hadn’t found any large expanse of sand. From what they’d seen, the Kull was less a desert and more like a dry savanna. Since no human had ever been allowed into the area, or at least admitted to knowing about the terrain, the description of it being a desert had come exclusively from the natives and their understanding of the human word. Mas filled the hours teaching Li Sy to speak and understand a few words. By nightfall she knew a dozen or so. “She’s really quite bright,” said Mas.

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “No, really.”

  “Then why is she without a home? Why is she following us through this desolation, eating rotten scraps?” Jasin turned to Li Sy and spoke to her in Sytonian. “Li Sy, where is your home? Do you have a family?” It was absurd that she wouldn’t understand her own language. On a whim, Jasin asked in human, “Is the Kull a good place or bad?”

  Li Sy’s eyes brightened. “Kull no good. Kull bad,” she replied.

  “See, I told you she was smart.”

  Jasin ignored him. “Why is the Kull bad?” he asked Li Sy. When she didn’t answer, Jasin turned to Mas and complained, “I don’t know whether she’s very bright, but she is very stubborn. It would be easier if she just spoke Sytonian.”

  “She just doesn’t want to.”

  “Really?” Jasin’s patience was wearing thin. He pulled his collar up to protect himself from a stiff breeze that had begun to pick up. They trudged on.

  As dimness fell over the Kull, they made camp in the hollow of a tall ridge where they’d be protected from the wind. Mas protected the wick as he lit the lantern. “At least we don’t have to worry that she’ll steal it,” he said.

  “Now that she knows where we keep the food, she needn’t bother with the lantern trick.” Jasin laid out the sleeping blankets. With a grin he placed two blankets together and his separated a bit. “Just in case you two want some privacy,” Jasin joked.

  Mas turned to look at the sleeping arrangements. “Not very funny.”

  “I think she’s found a mate.”

  “I hope not…” then under his breath, as if she would be offended, “…she’s hard and prickly down there.”

  “How would you know? You didn’t…”

  “Of course not, but she was up against me all last night. It was impossible not to notice.” He paused thoughtfully. “I don’t think she would mind though.”

  “It’s her time.”

  “Well, she’ll have to find someone else. Even if I were interested, I would be torn to a bloody mess. Their males must be…well, they must have special armored equipment.”

  Whether Mas wanted her or not it didn’t seem to matter to Li Sy, for when it was time for the humans to sleep, she crawled next to him and rubbed up against Mas. He shifted his position to avoid her. Jasin heard the rustling. “Be careful there Mas. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” He chuckled and turned his back to them.

  After several more attempts to interest Mas, Li S
y rose and left the humans to their sleep. She wandered off into the Kull, found a knoll, and began to sing. Mas and Jasin listened to the melody, mesmerized by its overtones of longing and desire. The longer her song went on, the more it expressed other more desperate needs. Fear and pain became interwoven with yearning, and panic replaced her earlier enchanting melodies. And then suddenly there was silence, her last notes of agony hung in the air until a scream finally shattered the stillness.

  Jasin bolted upright and turned to where Mas was supposed to be lying. Both blankets were empty.

  “Damn it,” swore Jasin, peering out into the dimness, turning slowly, listening for any telltale sound. He hadn’t the vaguest idea which direction the scream had come from. He yelled for his friend. Finally, after a few long minutes, Mas returned alone.

  “I couldn’t find her,” he reported. “The song…I thought she was in pain, but before I got close to finding her the singing stopped and she screamed. I got turned around until I heard you.”

  “Well, let’s hope she’s all right. It’s probably not a great idea to wander off. We’ll try to find her when the light returns. Until then let’s try to get some rest.”

  “How do you expect to sleep now?” Mas complained. “She could be dead. Something or someone may be out there. We don’t have a clue what else is out here.”

  Jasin didn’t want to admit it, but the incident had unnerved him as well. Mas was right. No one knew what to expect in the Kull or why it was prohibited territory. “Let’s not let our imaginations get the best of us,” said Jasin. Let’s just focus on getting across the Kull in one piece.” Hours crawled by as they tossed and turned. Their thoughts haunted by Li Sy’s last scream. Mercifully, the brightness arrived. Neither had gotten more than a fleeting few minutes of shuteye worrying about her fate.

  Jasin began rolling up the blankets while Mas rummaging through one of their packs for breakfast. “I swear there were more biscuits than this,” Mas grumbled.

  Jasin looked over at Mas. Then suddenly he backed away from the base of the tall ridge that had protected them. Li Sy sat on top looking down at them. She held one of the biscuits. “Looks like we all survived.” Jasin observed.

  Mas looked up at the towa. “I wonder if she’ll talk about what happened.”

  “You’ll have the rest of the day to try to find out.”

  Li Sy stuffed the entire biscuit into her mouth, storing it in her food sack, and slid down the incline to face Jasin. Searching for the right word, she finally said, “Hello”.

  “Good morning,” said Jasin.

  “Good morning,” she repeated, then regurgitated the biscuit into her hands and offered it to him. “Food?”

  Jasin shook his head, which the towa found peculiar. “Food?” she asked again, shaking her head from side to side mimicking Jasin.

  Again Jasin shook his head, this time smiling. “No, thank you. I don’t eat someone else’s food,” then under his breath, “especially once it’s been eaten.”

  Mas continued to dig through their packs until he found a little dried styke and a small piece of crystallized sweet melon, which they munched on. They each took a swig from the water gourd, and then Jasin pointed to a distant peak, which stood silhouetted in front of a rising cloud of warm moisture, emanating from the gorge’s depths.

  “That’s Mt. Doerr. The high pass should be just off its right shoulder. That’s where we’re heading. If all goes well, we should make the mountains in three days.” The little troop shouldered their packs and headed off, deeper into the Kull.

  It was noon when they came upon the first skeleton. They gathered around it. Mas poked at the bones looking for some apparent reason for its death. “Nothing broken…skull’s intact…looks like it’s been here awhile.”

  Li Sy studied the long arm and leg bones, then stated the obvious, “Towan”.

  They surveyed the area around the spot and found nothing out of the ordinary. Whoever it had been appeared to have just walked to this spot alone and died. “Could have died of hunger for all we can tell,” said Jasin.

  Leaving the remains, they walked on. An hour later, they came upon what was left of two more towans. “We’re not on any particular path. I wonder how we can just stumble upon three dead towans in an hour?” Mas asked.

  Ignoring the skeletons at their feet, Jasin surveyed the area. “That’s a good question. Stay here a minute.” He left the group and walked a wide circle around the new bones. A few minutes later he called for the others to join him. At his feet, was an even larger pile of bones.

  “I would estimate there are at least five bodies here. From what I’ve seen, I’d wager there are hundreds of dead towans around here. Maybe this is a cemetery or sanctuary for their dead.” He spoke Sytonian to Li Sy trying to confirm that, but she refused to engage.

  Mas agreed. “Maybe that’s why it’s forbidden land—the Prohibition is protecting the Kull from desecration.”

  “No towa,” added Li Sy.

  “She’s right,” said Mas. “We’ve found only males.”

  “With their sexist society, it wouldn’t surprise me if the women were also treated differently in death. Maybe there’s a separate area of the Kull for them. Let’s move on.”

  Much of Mt. Doerr hid beneath clouds, but they had become so familiar with the mountain’s form even the smallest hint of its massive facade provided adequate guidance. The hard-packed ground flattened and the vegetation thinned out considerably. Mas kicked at the parched soil, but barely broke the surface.

  “Now we know why they just leave the bodies. It would be crazy to dig graves in this,” said Mas.

  “Maybe when it’s time to die, they walk into the Kull and wherever they happen to collapse—”

  “In groups?” Mas cut Jasin off and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Look…there’s more.”

  Jasin and Li Sy followed Mas. This bone yard was different, and not just for the number of individuals present—which numbered more than fifty—but running through the field of bodies was a perfectly straight ridge of dirt a half-meter high extending left and right across their path. Dispersed throughout the carnage, were crude weapons. Jasin picked up a spear with a gray metal point. “I guess this disproves the cemetery idea.” He threw the spear to the ground and lifted a massive club.

  Mas picked up a serrated curved sword. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of this.”

  Jasin looked up at the massive blade his friend was holding, then started rummaging through the bones looking for something. He continued for several minutes, widening his search through the mass of slaughtered bodies, before rejoining the group.

  “Quite a battle, wouldn’t you say?” said Mas.

  “That’s just the puzzle.”

  “What puzzle?” Mas threw the sword to the ground, and retrieved a sturdy spear to lean on.

  “Not one bone has a single scratch. Not one nick or cut, not a single smashed skull.”

  “What about that one?” Mas pointed at a damaged skull partially hidden by the larger skeleton that lay on it. Jasin cleared the bigger bones away revealing a smaller skeleton whose skull had evidently been caved in. Li Sy leaned over the exposed remains.

  Jasin turned to Mas. “Our first towa.”

  “Our first and only towa,” corrected Mas.

  “No towa,” said Li Sy.

  “She could be right…maybe it’s just a younger towan,” said Mas.

  “No towan.” Li Sy said quietly.

  Jasin turned angrily to the native and yelled at her in Sytonian. “What are you talking about? No more games! I understand your language well, so there is no reason for you not to explain yourself clearly. What do you mean? What are these bodies doing here? Why are humans prohibited from being in the Kull? Do not speak in riddles if you don’t have to.”

  Li Sy stood as tall as she could, and without a single word, stepped over the dirt ridge and walked off, leaving the men stunned by her insolence.

 
“That was good. What did you say to her?”

  “I just asked her to tell us what she knew.”

  “Asked her? Sounded more like yelling to me?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I don’t even speak the language and could tell that you were yelling at her.”

  Jasin looked at the retreating towa. “Sensitive, isn’t she?”

  Mas shook his head angrily. “You sure have a magic touch with females. Are you going to let this one just walk off like the last one?”

  It felt as if Mas had actually impaled him with the spear he held in his hand. Jasin exploded and lashed out at Mas, knocking the spear out of his hands. It flew into the raised seam of dirt. How could he compare Elizabeth to this insignificant towa? Li Sy was a thief and a parasite…but she knew something important about this place. “We’ve got to stop fooling around here. I’ll get her. Then we’ve got to get moving.” Jasin sprinted to catch up with the towa. When he grabbed her arm, she swung around and furiously swatted his hand away.

  In Sytonian, she screamed at him. “Don’t touch me and don’t ever yell at me again. I’ve had enough of both in my life. I am not your slave. I don’t have to do as you say. If I don’t want to speak Sytonian, that’s for me to decide, not you. If you don’t want to share your food that’s fine, but your food doesn’t grant you power over me. I am not property.”

  Jasin stood dumbfounded. Towas didn’t speak like that. In their society, females were slaves; they were property. In his experience, these feelings and thoughts could not be coming from the mouth of a towa. He looked deeply into Li Sy’s dark eyes trying to comprehend. Finally he apologized. “I’m sorry, I yelled at you,” he said weakly.

  “Say that in human,” she demanded.

  “I am sorry.”

  “I am sorry,” she repeated the words slowly and carefully. “I am sorry. Good words,” she declared.

  Jasin smiled at her and nodded. “Yes, they’re very good words. Good words that I don’t use often enough. I promise not to raise my voice again. Will you please come back?”

  “Please?”

  “Another good word I need to use more”

  They walked back to rejoin Mas, who was on his knees, using the spear to scrape at the curious seam of raised earth.

  “Find something?”

  “The spear knocked away some of the dirt. Take a look.” Revealed beneath the dirt in the small cleared section was a hint of greenish-blue metal. Using other weapons as tools, Jasin and Li Sy helped Mas excavate a meter of the buried mystery. The ridge was evidently a long metal rail having a triangular cross-section pointing upward.

  “I’ve seen this type of metal before,” said Mas.

  Jasin ran his hand along the smooth surface and nodded. He’d seen this before as well. He took a few steps and picked up a massive sword from underneath one of the skeletons and brought it back to the rail. The absolute perfection of the buried form stood in stark contrast to the crude hammered metal. Jasin raised the sword over his head and brought it crashing down on the top fragile edge of the rail. Li Sy recoiled and Mas ducked his head as a small chunk of blue metal flew off towards them.

  “Have you gone crazy?” Mas shouted.

  “Sorry…come take a look.” They gathered around the gouge. Slowly the deep notch filled in, and within minutes there was no sign that there had ever been any damage. Jasin went to look for the piece that had been chipped off.

  “How did you know?” asked Mas.

  “I’ve also seen this stuff before.” He bent over and picked up the fragment. It had the consistency of soft putty. “Feel this,” he offered it to Mas, who held it in the palm of his hand and prodded it as if he thought it might come alive. Li Sy stood on her toes to get a look. He took her hand and dumped the glob into it. She sniffed it, then tried to give it back, but they declined. She looked around deciding where to put it. Finally, she walked over to the exposed rail and scraped it onto the surface. The material appeared to melt, and in a few seconds it disappeared, completely absorbed back into the rail. Li Sy cocked her head and tested the surface with a finger. It was hard.

  Jasin turned to Li Sy and pointed at the rail. He asked in Sytonian, “Do you know what this is and where it leads?”

  She looked up and down its length. It seemed clear she hadn’t a clue. After a short discussion, they decided to allow themselves an hour to follow the dirt-encased rail towards Bistoun. It was a disturbing detour.

  Countless towan bodies littered the landscape. Occasionally, they would notice a smaller skeleton, but primarily the Kull was proving to be the site of a massive war that killed thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of towans. As they continued the skeletons became denser. Finally, they were forced to stop. A compact field of bodies completely blocked their path. If they were to continue, they would have to step on the bones. There was simply no way to pick their way through. Li Sy refused to go further and they were just about to turn around when Mas pointed out a low structure in the distance.

  “That’s the first building we’ve seen since entering the Kull. Aren’t you curious?” Mas asked.

  The two men moved forward, pushing the skeletons aside to clear a path for Li Sy. Soon their faces were flush and sweat dripped off their chins. The rail beside them gradually descended into an artificial valley before disappearing into a dark tunnel clogged with bent and twisted rusted poles, wire mesh, and piles of desiccated bones. They struggled on through the field of dead towans until they stood in a circular clearing surrounding the low building. It was completely devoid of bodies.

  “Why remove the dead? What’s so special about this place?” asked Mas.

  Jasin surveyed the scene and turned back to ask Li Sy what she knew. She had stopped at the border of the empty circle and had curled herself into a ball. “Maybe they didn’t have to move them,” he said pointing to their companion. They walked over to assist her.

  “Bad…much bad…here,” she stammered, holding her head.

  “Do you feel anything?” Jasin asked Mas. Mas shook his head. “Me neither. We need to take her away from here,” said Jasin.

  “What’s the matter with her?” asked Mas. With a grunt, he lifted Li Sy to his shoulder.

  “Nothing, I would guess. I think she just needs to be moved from the edge of the clearing.”

  Mas carried her a dozen paces before setting her down. Slowly, she regained her strength. Jasin’s conjecture was confirmed. “The area around the building is somehow poisonous to natives. That’s why it’s clear of bodies. They can’t…they couldn’t get near the building, It’s protected.” He turned to Li Sy. “Rest here while we look around,”

  They walked slowly along the perimeter of the cleared space. “What are we looking for?” asked Mas.

  “Something.”

  “That’s a lot of help.”

  Jasin smiled. A minute later he stopped in front of a depression in the ground. A mound of dirt and several towan skeletons lay next to it. Among the bones were weapons of various sizes and what looked like shovels. Jasin took a couple and handed one to Mas. “Let’s see what they were looking for.”

  “What makes you think we can succeed where they failed?”

  “We’re not doubled over in pain. If we don’t find anything in a few minutes we’ll explore the building without her.” They turned to see the towa standing, watching them from a distance.

  Barely thirty seconds later, a section of greenish-blue tube lie exposed. It was the diameter of one of their arms. Jasin stepped into the sea of bones and retrieved the largest weapon he could carry.

  “My turn,” said Mas, who took the battle ax and swung it high over his head. The massive blade came crashing down, severing the blue metal. Li Sy screamed in anguish. They turned to see her collapse and rushed to her aid. She was unconscious, lying amid a jumble of rib bones; her mouth open and distorted, frozen in a grimace of horrible suffering. Mas lifted her head, and with his free arm, swept the parched bones from beneath her, t
hen laid her back gently. The muscles in her face relaxed and she opened her eyes. After resting a moment and taking a sip of water, she was able to stand.

  Cautiously, they approached the edge of the clearing. The men kept an eye on Li Sy, who paused every few steps to sense any return of the mysterious headache. Crossing the invisible perimeter of the clearing, she relaxed and led them to a short blue-metal door. Mas gained entry by demolishing it with the battle-ax. Bits of blue metal flew in every direction. “I’m beginning to like this delicate instrument,” he joked.

  “You’re the picture of style and finesse,” agreed Jasin.

  They unpacked the lantern, and then leaving their packs in the doorway, they ducked their head and entered through the low doorway. Their long shadows stretched out in front of them on the stone floor as the men stepped deeper into the musty room. Light from the doorway defined their narrow path, and they strained to resolve the details hidden in the dark corners. Li Sy moved easily through the darkness continuously sniffing the air. Benches, lined up in neat rows, occupied most of the space.

  “Might have been a school room or shelter,” said Mas. “This place was built to hold a lot of people.”

  “A lot of towa, by the size of the door and these benches. But why attack a school?” Jasin countered. “They went through a lot of trouble to protect this building. It was important enough that thousands of others died attacking it.”

  The thin wedge of light failed to illuminate the depths of a wide stairway, forcing them to light their lantern before descending. Carefully, they negotiated several dozen mold-encrusted stairs, emerging in a cavernous space with a vaulted ceiling that their lamp barely illuminated. In the center, ten tubular pods, each six meters long and half as tall, balanced on the rail of blue metal. They slowly approached. Dust and dirt covered indents in the sides that appeared to be windows. Sloping ramps led to larger openings in the center of each pod. They cautiously stepped into the nearest one. The interior instantly brightened. A sophisticated control panel on a far wall flashed cryptic messages.

  Jasin and Mas exchanged glances. “Our friends have been holding out on us,” Mas said, finally breaking the long silence. They sat in the comfortable seats and took a few minutes to digest their discovery.

  “Must have been some kind of transportation system,” offered Jasin.

  Li Sy sniffed the interior briefly. “No food,” she said, before leaving the cabin.

  Jasin stared at the departing Li Sy trying to determine whether she had been surprised or knew about what they had discovered. “Food is all she ever seems to be interested in,” said Jasin He blew out the weak, unneeded flame of their crude lantern.

  Mas shook his head. “Incredible…the bastards force us to dispose of our technology, prohibit us from teaching or developing anything new and all the while they’re hiding evidence of their advanced science and engineering. We’ve been living a charade.”

  “In another generation, humans will be as backward as we thought they were,” added Jasin, dazed. “Then we could fall victim to their total control.”

  “In another generation?” Mas used the crude battle-ax to point to the dials and multi-colored readouts on the control panel. “That’s way over my head.”

  “Li Sy is right about one thing—if we don’t find food or water it won’t matter to us.” Jasin said. They stepped from the confines of the vehicle and the interior lights shut off leaving them in total darkness. They returned to the cabin and the artificial lamps once again illuminated, allowing them to light their lantern before once again stepping outside. “Let’s see where she went.”

  “I wonder whether they all can see so well in the dark, or whether it’s just the towa?” Mas thought out loud.

  Jasin shrugged, and they slowly continued past the pods calling out her name.

  The uniform blue rail stretched out in front of them, disappearing in the darkness beyond the glow of the lantern. After walking for ten minutes, they turned around and headed back towards the cars. Suddenly, an excited Li Sy appeared out of the darkness claiming she had found food. They followed her into the darkness, trusting her keen senses to guide them, until they stood before a door at the end of a narrow corridor. It yielded to Mas’s axe.

  This time the lights didn’t turn on when they entered. “These rooms and the rest of the building must be on the same dysfunctional power source, where the pods, and the defense system, must each have their own,” guessed Mas.

  Li Sy sniffed the air and led them to yet another door. Mas raised his ax, but Li Sy stepped in front of him and simply pulled the door open. Inside there were stacks of tightly covered blue metal cubes. “How in the world can she smell food in sealed containers behind two doors?” asked Mas.

  Li Sy reached down along the back of the storage closet and brought her three fingers to her nose. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. An intense shudder ran through her body. Jasin knelt beside her bringing the lantern low. Along the back of the closet and covering one of the bottom cubes were crawling insects. “Maybe she’s smelling the insects and not the food,” Jasin suggested. Li Sy brought her hand to his nose He sniffed carefully but was unable to smell anything. He looked in her hand. She had squashed a few of the bugs between her fingers. She offered her treasure to Mas who was also unable to detect the faintest odor. She sniffed her fingers again with the same result.

  “I hope there’s more than bugs here,” said Mas.

  Li Sy pointed at the insects. “Forn.”

  “Well, whatever you call them, let’s see what they find so interesting,” said Jasin. He took a container from the top, and after a few awkward moments of trying to pry the lid open, he discovered that it pivoted from one corner if you applied pressure in the right spot. The cube contained a golden syrup. He held it out for Li Sy, who smelled it. She dipped her bug-covered fingers into the thick liquid and tasted it.

  “That’s hers now,” stated Mas wrinkling his nose. He put the ax down and opened another cube. “Tastes slightly sweet,” he said after sampling the goo.

  “Sweet’s good,” said Jasin, as he took a cube of his own. They each slurped down about a third of their container. “Grab as much as we can carry and let’s get to the surface.”

  Dimness had begun to engulf the Kull, but since none of them felt like sleeping among thousands of skeletons and there was still sufficient light to travel by, they left the vicinity of the transport station and headed towards Mt Doerr. After an hour of fading light, they cleared the sea of bones. When it became too dark to travel, they unrolled their blankets and settled down. Not even the towa felt the least bit hungry or thirsty even after an hour of walking. The golden syrup had satisfied them completely. Soon they heard Li Sy wander off. They lay awake and struggled to find comfortable positions, half expecting to hear towa song again.

  Mas rolled over to face Jasin. “Do you think they’ve abandoned their technology or simply hiding it? I don’t get it.”

  “It’s massive deceit either way.”

  “Massive hypocrisy,” Mas declared.

  Jasin listened to the wind blow across the open plain. “Where do you think she has gone off to?”

  “Who knows? Maybe looking for more bugs.”

  “Forn. You should learn a few of their words.”

  They talked a bit longer, pausing now and again to listen for the towa, but only the wind and their yawning broke the silence of the Kull. Jasin stared up at the stars and thought about what Beloit had told him of vast numbers that could be seen from space. What wonders his parents must have observed. Just the idea that you could see more than a small section of the sky befuddled him. If you were floating in space, he thought, you would see stars all around you, in any direction. Sleep came surprisingly easy.

  In his dreams, Elizabeth was crying tears of liquid gold. He reached out and brought an amber teardrop to his mouth, expecting it to taste sweet. Its bitterness surprised him. His stomach churned and he turned away from her, afraid he
would be sick. When he turned back, she was gone, and there was nothing but the Kull. He had to find her and peered into the barren landscape, straining to see her, to hear her, but all he could detect was the faint sound of the alien transport rolling along the buried track. Sh, sh, sh, it was a faint sound and it continued repeatedly. Sh, sh, sh. The sound filled his head and something made him open his eyes. He rolled over to see Mas standing.

  “What’s wrong?” Jasin asked sleepily. But Mas just held up his finger to silence him. Jasin stared at his friend, standing frozen against the starry sky, and then off in the distance, riding along with the blowing wind and quickly fading away, Jasin barely made out the faintest of sounds—Sh, sh, sh.

  Seduction

  Rage boiled inside her, yet Elizabeth stood helpless, fists clenched at her side. Blood from her split lip trickled down her chin as she watched Sy Loeton tear Julian’s clothing off and drag the frail seventy-year old from her comfortable quarters and throw her into a cramped, dark, storage room. Something had occurred during the towan’s Rhan-da-lith celebration that had changed his attitude towards them. They were no longer a mere nuisance. Fighting through pain, she flexed her jaw. Sy Loeton’s crushing blow had caught her by surprise. His anger filled the residence.

  Loeton’s cruelty toward Julian, a defenseless and benign old lady, only reinforced the hatred and disgust she felt towards him. His fascination with human females obviously had its limits, and now she feared her ruse and promise to serve him would likely result in her joining Julian or even worse.

  Her hand drifted through the slit in her thin dress and felt the hilt of the blade she had tied to her thigh. So far, the only blood it had drawn was her own, but she swore to change that. How could she just stand by and do nothing?

  Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind. Sy Hone lifted her from the floor and brought to stand before Loeton. He looked at her busted lip. Her blood hadn’t stopped flowing and a fresh drop hung from her jaw. Sy Loeton reached over, took the drop, and brought it to his mouth.

  “I have no use for you and neither does your master,” he began. “The old woman has sent you away once. Now I insist, go back to your people.”

  Elizabeth hesitated. In just a few days, Jasin might arrive, but this was no time to argue. “I will leave in the morning…after….” Her mind raced to find an excuse. “I need to thank you properly for your hospitality.”

  “My hos-pi-tally? What is this?”

  Elizabeth stepped forward and lowered her head. “You have given me food and shelter. You have helped me recover from my earlier injuries. Honor demands that I must repay you. I must do something in return.” Talking had increased the flow of blood from her lip. Her tongue explored the cut, tasting the metallic drops.

  “You are free to go. You owe me nothing.”

  Moving closer to him, she brushed a finger along her blood smeared lip and brought it to the native’s mouth. “Perhaps tonight I could serve you dinner…just you and I alone…” she glanced at the pytor, “without your animals.” Sy Hone stepped forward to slap her again, but Loeton caught his arm before it struck.

  “Sy Hone, do you think I need protection from this female?” he asked in Sytonian. “Her boldness amuses me. I will spend a few moments with her before we leave for the council meeting tonight.” He reached down and grabbed the cylith’s leash and handed it to his pytor. “Feed him, we will travel far before the brightness.” Sy Hone led the animal away, but not before giving Elizabeth a withering look.

  “You may repay your debt by helping me practice your language,” suggested Loeton.

  “You speak Human very well, are you sure there isn’t anything else that I could do?” She turned coyly and slowly inspected the room. What did she think she was doing? Her hand brushed the slender hidden weapon. If she got close enough did she have the nerve to use it? Wait for Jasin she told herself. Let him initiate the plan.

  “Do you know the humans that live on the cold shore of the lake? A man and a small boy.”

  Startled, she turned to face him.

  “I see that you know who I am talking about. What are their names?”

  “Why do you ask about them?” She felt tightness in her chest and the room suddenly felt cold. Forcing herself to smile, she approached him, playing with the ends of the lace that held her dress together. “Aren’t I more interesting than some man and his son?”

  “So…the small boy is his son. That should help us find them.”

  Find them. Why would he be interested in Jorge and Wilem? Maybe she should finish this now. They were alone just as Jasin had planned. Kill him, rescue Julian, and get as far from here as possible. She was very close to him now and he leaned into her sniffing the air. In turn she took a deep breath, filling her nose with his musk and traced the scars on his chest with her thumb as she had seen others do. His neck riffled slightly as she let her left hand drop to his pelvic folds and lightly ran her fingers along the ridges. She stared onto his unblinking eyes and wondered whether he would close them. Her right hand fell to her thigh and slipped through the slit in her dress, inching toward the knife.

  He pushed her away.

  “I am not due for several days, and my new fifth is in need, but perhaps you can join us when I return from T’Matte. It might be interesting. Be waiting for me in the hardel, the sitting area I’m told you are so fond of. There, among the wives, we will see if you can repay me.”

  Elizabeth left the private room in a daze and wandered back to the atrium, collapsing beneath the giant tree, nauseous and emotionally drained. She had bought herself a few more days, but at what cost. Completing the seduction would be suicide. She remembered Jasin’s description of the mutilated girl. Loeton was immensely strong, and his actions were unpredictable. How could she ever think that she would be able to get close enough to help Jasin kill him? But if she was careful, and the towan’s response to sex was similar to other males, a little foreplay might present an opportunity to catch him in a vulnerable moment.

  What about Loeton’s fifth? Would the plan work if she were present? The wives would have to leave them alone, or she would have to convince him to find a more private spot. It was getting complicated At first it had seemed easy…excite him, and then kill him. Kill him before…before he killed her.

  Sy Lang gave the traditional keetah toast to the gathered Council of Seventeen. “We can wait no longer for our brother to join us. Let us begin deliberations, and hope our wisdom is sufficient to guide our people. Tyhinga!” The assemblage repeated the salute and burnt their throats with a gulp of steaming liquid. A chorus of spirited howls accompanied the spilling of the excess liquid onto the rough stone pavers. Lang walked past the first set of junior sentinel guards and sidled up to Loeton, “Have you seen or spoken to our teacher?”

  “We observed the Rhan-da-lith together. It was quite a show. You should join us next year.”

  “A show?” asked Sy Lang.

  “I’ll explain, but I need the privilege of Durougia,” Loeton replied earnestly, asking for the right to change the council’s agenda.

  “We have much to discuss tonight. If there is time you may request the privilege.”

  Their cyliths playfully circling each other, nose to rump, as their masters walked together from the sacred stone circle and through the sculpture garden where they passed rows of moss-covered bas-reliefs and busts. Sy Lang stopped in front of one. Loeton’s cylith chose its base to urinate upon. “Not much regard for his master,” reflected Lang, gazing at the likeness of Sy Loeton.

  “You only amuse yourself, Lang,” said Loeton.

  “It would benefit you to relax tonight.”

  Loeton looked at his fellow council member for clarification, but Lang offered nothing. They continued walking and passed between the second set of young towan sentinels and their unruly pups. The young natives were being honored with the symbolic guarding of the entrance of the immense stone cavity that served to house and protect the business of the assembly.
Others had already taken their designated positions on the elevated concentric terraces surrounding the leader’s pit. Sy Lang stepped down into the center of the depression while Loeton joined the highly respected members in the inner ring.

  For the next few hours, Sytonian issues and concerns were debated. Most involved territorial disputes and trading conflicts. As dimness spread, torches were lit. Eerie shadows danced against the steep natural stone faces of the chamber. Sy Loeton endured the tedious agenda patiently until there was an extended pause in the proceedings.

  “I ask the indulgence of my fellow council members. I know the hour is late, but I bring an issue of great importance,” he began. “I request the privilege of Durougia.” All eyes turned to Sy Lang, who would have to grant the privilege.

  “I assure you if there is sufficient time after one last matter is discussed, the privilege will be granted.” Loeton spread his arms in acquiescence. Sy Lang continued, “On behalf of this council, I have promised the humans to ask you, Sy Loeton, a few questions concerning the death of one of their women.”

  Loeton raised his head in surprise and glowered at Sy Lang.

  “With great respect, we ask you to enlighten the council on anything you might know. For whatever reason, the humans seem upset over the inconsequential death of this female. I believe she lived in Bistoun and worked in one of the eating establishments along the river,” added Lang.

  Now, all attention turned to Sy Loeton who held his head high and replied, “I have eaten in Sy Fask’s establishment for many years. The woman you refer to worked there. It is my understanding that she was injured and eventually died. Now…if we are finished exploring trivial matters, I have an important discovery to bring to the council’s attention. I request Durougia.”

  “Perhaps, in a minute. There is more that I must ask you, my friend.”

  “Friend! You have the disrespect to interrogate me here, in this sacred chamber, and call yourself a friend?”

  It was Sy Lang’s turn to spread his arms, but he continued, “It has been said that you have had lengthy talks with this girl and that you may have seen her…outside of Sy Fask’s. Others have mentioned that her services were available to many men.”

  “You use that term to insult me?”

  “Never, respected sir.”

  “Then your insinuation is meant to imply?” His tone clearly indicating a question.

  “Sy, Loeton, please help us put this matter to rest,” begged Lang.

  Loeton looked around at the other members. They had been on their feet for hours and it was obvious they wished to put an end to this session. “My personal behavior is really none of this bodies concern," he stated flatly.

  “On the contrary,” replied Lang, “all of our behaviors reflect on the stature of this body. Our suggestions are followed because we are respected, and we earn that respect by living by the highest code of conduct. You are known as a towan of great moral integrity, but that has been challenged by the humans, and I have promised to resolve this problem.”

  “Why do we care about what the humans believe?” roared Loeton. “We set the standards by which they must live, not the other way around. They have no right to question our behavior. You waste the council’s time worrying about human concerns and questioning my moral integrity, when we should be discussing the fact that humans have been deceiving us for decades and pose a serious threat. Why should we care about what happened to one of them, especially a female?”

  “Sy Loeton…some of the girl’s injuries could have been caused by sexual congress with a towan.” A murmur of confusion swept through the council as members sought to picture the unlikely act.

  Enraged, Sy Loeton left his alcove and approached Sy Lang. His cylith followed growling, sensing his master’s anger. “How dare you suggest I might be involved? It is no secret that I find human females intriguing and that I have recently taken Avram Elstrada’s widow as a wife. But how dare you suggest that I, or any towan, would be capable of the intentional mutilation and murder of another species for sexual gratification? That is a sickness, not an interest. I do find their females stimulating and yes, I enjoyed talking to the girl in Bistoun, but I can assure you that her death had nothing to do with me.”

  “Your interest in human females doesn’t help matters,” said Lang. “Is there any proof you were not involved.”

  “Proof that I wasn’t involved? I need proof? My word has always been enough and it should be enough now. I didn’t harm that girl, I…I couldn’t have.” The last few words were spoken under his breath.

  Sy Lang leaned over and quietly asked him to explain.

  “It’s actually quite simple,” whispered Loeton. “It was not my time. I was not due for a week.”

  “There is no need for secrecy, Sy Loeton. Your personal schedule is clear evidence of your innocence. It has just never been needed as a matter of defense before. Please, go back to your alcove.” As Loeton walked back to his space, Lang announced, “Sy Loeton, while not required, has graciously provided proof of his innocence—his personal cycle. This body offers its apology and grants him the privilege of Durougia.”

  Sy Loeton paused, allowing the first matter to fade a bit before continuing. “A group of us, including our respected teacher, Sy Toberry, have witnessed a disturbing event during the last Rhan-da-lith. Our towdom traditionally celebrates the darkness in the hills overlooking the lake. This year, as many here must know, there was a terrific lightning storm.” A smattering of heads nodded, remembering. “And the glow from the lake has been naturally brilliant, unusually so.” Heads once again nodded in agreement. “During the storm, the surface of the water was struck by a lightning bolt; the entire lake and shoreline were illuminated. That’s when we saw it. The humans have hidden it beneath the water for thirty years and now they are going to raise it and use its power against us.”

  “Excuse me Sy Loeton,” said a small, weak voice from the outer circle. “If I may? What exactly did you observe?”

  “I am sorry Eidorf, let me explain. Thirty years ago, a ceremony was held at the lake where the humans supposedly destroyed the last of their flying vehicles…but a few days ago we saw it rise under its own power. It was working, and what is just as important, we saw a man and his son watching the machine. Either they were controlling it or they knew when to expect it. Either way they have deceived us.”

  “Sy Loeton, this is indeed serious,” remarked Lang. “I can assume that Sy Toberry saw this event as well?”

  “Of course. I told you we were together.”

  “And there is no possibility that what you saw could have been anything other than what you have described? You said you were high on a hill. It was the darkest day of the year.”

  “Sy Lang, there is no possibility it was anything else. I remember their flying craft clearly, as should you. We sat together with Sy Toberry, and we saw them set it on fire and pretend to sink it. It was the same machine.”

  Lang nodded, remembering. “Do you believe all the humans know of its existence, or just the few at the lake?” asked Lang. “We must find out who was responsible.”

  “Respectfully sir, it is irrelevant. As far as I can see, the issue is how to find and destroy it before they use its terrible power against us. This proves what I have always believed—that humans cannot be trusted to abandon their technology. They are a dishonest and dangerous race. It was a mistake to grant them settlement rights as I have insisted continuously. We must take the necessary steps to punish and control them. I have already taken the precaution of securing one of their elders, who by chance was under my care before Rhan-da-lith.”

  A murmur spread through the council. Loeton surveyed the assembly trying to detect any dissention.

  Sy Lang voice quieted the crowd. “You were right to bring this to the council’s attention, but the hour is late and we must have clear minds and more information to deal with a problem of this magnitude. I suggest we all investigate the human activities within our
territories to determine the extent to which the humans have disobeyed the Prohibitions. If they have broken their promise they must be dealt with. The machine in the lake poses a serious peril and we must find out who controls it, and how we can eliminate its threat forever. Due to the seriousness of the situation, we will meet again in ten days to continue discussion of this matter.”