Where are you?
Near the sky-step. I’ve fallen into a sinkhole or something. Hurry!
Where is Alis? Weren’t you with her?
I … I’m on my own.
Why? What’s happened? Is Alis safe?
Yes! Lind said. Of course she is! Just hurry!
“Trouble?” Andel had withdrawn from her exploration. Her sandy-brown eyes were fully present.
He nodded. “Lind. She’s hurt.” Of all the moments for someone to need him! I have to go.
“I’ll stay here,” Andel said. “I’ll be fine.”
“The lizards?”
She shrugged. “They’re busy with the bug outbreak, you said so yourself. They won’t worry me today.”
“No. We can’t risk it.” He put his hand up, asking her to wait while he extended his thoughts toward Casco and Cobar. Within moments he saw a close-up image of layered sandstone through Casco’s eyes.
Lind’s in trouble. he said. Can either of you come to watch over Andel?
Going to take some time, Casco replied. If you hadn’t noticed, we’re halfway down a cliff!
Andel touched his arm. “I’ll be fine, truly. I have a feeling about this.”
He peered across the rock shelf toward the portal, then up the sheer cliffs to the edge of the plateau. The portal was the only escape from the reef, and too far away for her to make a rapid escape. He pointed to the bluff directly opposite them. If the lizards come, see that ledge there?
She nodded.
It’s defensible, he said. Then with a flash of inspiration, he whispered the mysterious orange stone from Qalān and put it in her palm. “It’s a beacon charm,” he explained. “If you keep it close, I’ll always be able to find you.”
She rubbed the pebble with her thumb, feeling the charm within. When she smiled, he knew that, incredibly, he’d done the right thing. As he hurried to the portal he felt weightless, as if his body had been imbued with Andel’s nacrite. But as he drew near to the sky-cliffs, the distress call came again, urging him to hurry, and his buoyancy faded.
Before the final step Huldar paused. There was no room for error. The fate of Joumelät Enna was testament to that – and he had to have the song ready to bounce them through the portal if need be. Qalān and emotion did not mix. There could be no mistakes. With mind and body in hyper-drive, he stepped through.
Green grass and warm sun, but on the breeze he heard a whirring sound and a faint clacking – perhaps a call of some sort? It was coming from the forest’s edge.
Lind! he called. Where are you?
Over here! I’ve fallen into a pit of some sort. There’re wasp-things. Be careful! They’re dangerous.
As he drew near, he could see where the noise was coming from. Above the hole a cloud of angry insects with long green bodies darted to and fro. Flashing orange wings beat with blurring speed. Banded antennae sprouted like gaudy spears from armored heads.
Huldar backed slowly away. He focused on the pitch of their call, but the staccato clicks left no room for his voice to take control. When he turned his attention to the thrum of their wings he found the space he needed and began to sing, trying to fill the tiny intervals with enough sound to form a counter-chord that could be manipulated.
With an orange flash the swarm turned to face him.
They had no eyes!
He pushed the shock aside. The Shamkar on his cheek warmed as he pushed his voice forward, but he was not quick enough. Without warning the insects flew at him, each antenna aimed like a weapon. There was no time to form a protective shield. At the last second, he ducked and the dazzling horde flew over his head.
They swept back for another try, wings flared in the bright glow of sunset. The time for delicacy was gone. He made the notes hard and forceful, and as he readied himself for the next onslaught, the sightless army hesitated. For a moment or two they milled as if they had forgotten why they were there. He felt a brief, alien connection with one-mind-as-many, then watched their sparks disband like shooting stars into a universe of living things, each unique vibration absorbed back into the overarching song of the moment.
He found Lind among the roots at the bottom of a pit, sheltered by a canopy of fronds. She ran her hand lightly over her swollen ankle and struggled to her feet.
“I landed badly,” she said. Her face was a pale oval in the gloom.
He looked doubtfully at the steep sides of her enclosure and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll have you out of there in a moment.” He pulled a rope from Qalān.
“My ankle hurts too much,” Lind said. “I can’t climb.”
Huldar eyed the tangle of debris at the bottom of the pit. “A sling, then. See that old root, the twisted one? That’s it! Do you think it could hold your weight?”
Lind tested it and looked up at him. “Should do.”
Huldar threw the rope and watched as she tied it to the center of the short length of wood. He whispered a charm to keep the knot firm, then winched his end around a sturdy trunk and started hauling. When she was just below the lip he tied the rope off and took her hand, dragging her to the surface. Her tattered shirt revealed arms that were scratched and covered in welts. The angry scrape on her cheek needed the attention of a healer, and also her ankle, which seemed quite swollen.
“Shame you healers can’t heal yourselves.” He held out his arm and she clung tightly. “Is the ankle broken?”
I’m no healer, she said. Not really.
Huldar gave her a small squeeze. “Yes you are!” She was clearly in shock. “You might think of yourself as Leth, but your mother was Naghari. Your skills are growing every day.” He smiled. “Come on. Let’s get you back to camp. What happened to Alis?”
I came out here alone.
Alone? “Lind! You should know better.”
I wanted to see the sky-step again. It’s so amazing … and the sunset. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
He could hear the lie in her mind.
She turned inside his supporting arm and suddenly his gesture seemed like an embrace. He stepped back in confusion. Her hand came softly to his chest.
Thank you, she whispered. I knew you would come.
Sadness welled in Huldar’s heart. Through her touch he could feel her desire, her high hopes for the moment – and also that she had upset the insects on purpose, not realizing they would actually sting, then fallen as she ran in genuine panic.
He smoothed frazzled hair from her forehead. “Of course I came,” he said. “I would always come to any of you who needed me.” She did not resist as he took her hand from his chest. He could feel her courage wilt, like a soft-petaled flower cut from its stem. “I am an archangel and your team-leader,” he said quietly. “It is my duty.”
But I love you! She threw her soul open. Does this mean nothing to you?
He stayed silent.
She turned away. “It’s Andel, isn’t it?” she said numbly. “I knew that. It’s just that I …”
He looked into her face. Her eyes were huge and dark. “Lind, we have known each other for a long time … hundreds of years … seven new planets, or is it eight? In all that time we have been friends, you and I, good friends, colleagues, but nothing more. I care for you, I respect your intelligence, your resourcefulness; I enjoy your Lethian nature, stubborn as my own, even your prickly humor.” He gently squeezed her hand. “But I am not in love with you.”
I know … “I know that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He released her hand. “But please, don’t do this again. Now,” he said, “if we could return to camp?”
When she hesitated he felt his anger rise. He’d left Andel alone on the reef. What if something happened to her – or anyone else on his team, while he was attending this circus?
“I’ll take myself home,” Lind said. Her frozen expression did nothing to hide the moisture trapped against her lashes.
“Of course I’ll take you,” he said gruffly. She gave no more than a token resistance as he
took her elbow.
She limped determinedly toward the sky-step portal. “You want to get back to her. I can feel it.”
“Yes!” he said. “I left Tsemkarun Andel unguarded in a dangerous place so I could come and save someone who had made a safe place dangerous!” He gritted his teeth against the snarl in his voice. “I hope, for your sake, that no one else needs rescuing today.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Good,” he said stiffly. “So am I. Now let’s go.”
“You won’t tell her, will you? You won’t tell anyone?”
Huldar took a deep breath and kept walking. Lind hobbled beside him, her haze a clot of misery. Her ankle was badly injured and he felt sorry for her pain, inside and out, but he would not relent. He needed to get back to Andel. The thought of a marauding lizard pack preyed on his mind.
Minutes later, Lind was safely with the healers. Huldar waited until he was certain she would be all right, then started back to The Hat. He made his way rapidly over the fossil-beds on the plateau and looked down from the edge. Small breakers smashed against the weyfal rock now the tide had turned, but there was no sign of Andel. She hadn’t called out and he sensed no danger – but nevertheless his heart began to pound. Then he remembered the charm-stone.
He stepped down to the reef. Soon the rising tide would cut off their escape. His heart raced as he followed its call across the broken surface, and as he rounded the headland he saw her in the distance, draped over a broad outcrop that projected from a sandy beach. A quick scan told him she was completely calm, sunning herself. It took several moments to bring his aspect to order, then he continued casually as if he were merely returning to the job. When he got closer, he saw Casco and Gento and laughed at himself for not noticing them all at the same time.
Andel! he called. Still hard at work I see? And you two layabouts?
Right here, boss! Casco and Cobar were sitting on the edge of a rock-pool with their shirts off, dangling their feet in the water.
Andel climbed from her boulder and hurried across the sand. “Is she all right?”
“She’ll be fine,” Huldar said, but his sadness for what had happened lurked close to the surface. “She was attacked by insects and fell into a sinkhole.” Casco and Cobar joined them and he showed them a rough approximation of what had happened.
“Hmm,” said Cobar. “The sling was good idea.”
“Lucky the hole wasn’t too deep!” Casco added.
Huldar nodded. “Deep enough.”
“And you sang those things to calmness?” Andel said. The admiration in her gaze rinsed much of the sadness from his heart. “That’s amazing!” she went on. “They look so ferocious.”
“They were a bit of a challenge,” he admitted.
“Have you done that sort of thing before?” she asked. “How did it feel to be in touch with another creature’s mind? But not just one being … all of them acting as one!”
“I hadn’t thought of it in that way.” He paused as he tried to remember the event more clearly. “There was no feeling of a ‘mind’ such as we’d know it,” he said. “There was a single will, but it was bubbly, like foam. I had no inkling of any thought patterns, and when they left, the foam fragmented, sort of. They just fluttered away and I was glad my charm worked.”
“And Lind is all right?” Casco asked.
“She must have been relieved to see you,” Andel added.
“It was mainly her ankle – and a few bites,” Huldar said, “but nothing Ubaid can’t fix. Now, how did you go with the nacrite? Found anything new?”
“Come and I’ll show you.” She danced away toward the cliff face. “Over here …”
Casco and Cobar shared a resigned sigh and hurried to keep pace.
“It’s all right for you,” Casco muttered to Huldar, “but we’ve been traipsing up and down these rocks for hours now. It was easier climbing cliffs.”
“Casco!” Andel laughed. “You know that’s not true!”
The weathered rock towered above them, chill in the shadows. She turned to Huldar. “You know how nacrite is often associated with calcified sediments?” She paused to gauge his interest.
He looked at her blankly. “Calcified sediments?” He hoped he didn’t seem too clueless.
Her small hand caressed a pale formation sandwiched between darker layers. “A whole seam of exquisite, pale yellow marble,” she said. “It’s just down here! Worth a fortune on its own. And … you’ll be amazed! Really, you will!”
Casco winked at him. Really, you will …
“It goes right underneath the basalt fulcrum, and …” Andel hesitated, her eyes shining “… the largest deposit of nacrite I’ve ever heard of!” She laughed with joy.
Huldar laughed with her. “Truly, I am amazed! Such a series of finds – no wonder you’re so happy!”
“There’s no doubt now that we’ll be returning to this planet,” Casco said. “The nacrite here may not be mineable – and we’ll have to take into account the ecological significance of the wave – but the other nacrite probably is and I believe that some of this marble might be too.”
They looked up as a shadow crossed the sun. The weather was turning. Shredded clouds flew across the sky, harbingers of change. Andel pulled her coat on, and the others followed suit.
“Time to head back,” Huldar said, “before the tide cuts us off. You’ve all done unbelievably well! I think a little more jhavo is in order, don’t you?”
“Ha!” Casco nudged Cobar’s ribs. “Told you he had another jug of that stuff stashed away.”
INSIGHT
Alone on a craggy northern island of the Southern Archipelago, Huldar hunkered down beside a mighty waterfall and watched the dawn light flood beneath a pall of inky dark clouds. In an instant, squalls of rain were transformed into shining capes. Wildlife filled the air with chirps, wails and ratcheted clacking. The roar of the falls thundered through his body. Rain bucketed down, running freely over his face from the edge of his hood. He cleared his eyes with one hand and stared into the braided chasm below. Thick mist sparkled between long fingers of shadow, but it was not just the dawn that flashed among the droplets.
All around him, up and down the length of the canyon, small blue lizards darted in fits and starts from crevices where they made their homes. Wherever the sunlight pooled, they gathered. Jewel bright on rain-dark rocks, they lifted cerulean wings as if in tribute to the sun; then, at some unspoken signal, they launched into the void.
Wings fluttered like fragments of shattered summer sky. Tails flashed in the pearlescent vapor. Blue streaks, agile as eels, chased through the spray after glimmering rainbows of flying silver fish – a sight to rival the famed sky-veils of Manziat.
More than anything, he wanted Andel to see it, but he was afraid to leave even for one second, knowing that the moment would not last and that their psychic bond was not deep enough for him to share such wealth and do it justice.
As if his thoughts had been a cue, the sunlight was eclipsed by storm clouds and the magical scene darkened. Lizards still flew, fish still jumped, but everything was different. He stood and bowed in homage to the wonders of El’s creation, and, after a last look, began walking slowly along the edge of the ravine, careful to avoid unwary lizards.
He wondered how the creatures survived the long winter, but in their short window of time they could only have the briefest of overviews. Mating displays and breeding behaviors were rarely glimpsed, and there were few clear clues as to how any of the myriad life forms on this complex world reproduced.
He paused to pull a vine from his path and looked up as flashing blue wings arced above the ravine. It puzzled him that many populations showed no evidence of variation in age. Where were their young? But these mysteries would have to wait until the next thaw-cycle, or the next. The Overlord was far more interested in the location of mineral deposits, and saw ecological systems in terms of dangers and assets rather than life and beauty valuable in its own right.
With other assignments, ten years was the accepted rotation … ten years on, ten years off until the new planet was well understood. Only then would the Imperial Explorers give their final reports and the Guild release the new world for utilization – or not. However, this one was only habitable for three standard years. It would be another seven before it thawed again; so a three by seven rotation. This would put the Uri’madu out of sync with other teams.
Then there was the difficulty with external communication. Soon after the summer solstice, there would be an eight-day period at a specific location in the north during which they could make contact with the outer realm. Eight days then nothing more until the navigator returned to their original Djan’rū site. They had understood these limitations before they had accepted the assignment, and they would be well compensated of course, but this was the longest any of them had spent in complete isolation from the Realm, and as the communications window came nearer, he expected tensions to escalate.
He left the trail and headed west through dense vegetation. It’s probably the nacrite that causes the communications problem, he thought. He had never heard of so much of the rare metal on one planet. When nacrite escaped into the atmosphere it continued to rise, and at a certain altitude began to fragment. His theory was that the whole planet was blanketed in minute nacrite particles that formed a natural shield against telepathic contact – but there was no easy way to prove it.
A zigzag pattern on the ground caught his attention and he stooped to collect a cluster of large oval nuts. The greenish shells were tough to break, but inside was a thick layer of bright yellow flesh which was not only safe for annangi to eat, but was also delicious. There seemed to be plenty of them, so he gathered a few more, then headed back to their southern base-camp.
When he returned the sun was shining, although the air held a crisp, polar bite. Tam was waiting for the nuts, ready to chop them open. Ubaid took some yellow nutmeat from the bench. “Where’s Lind?” he asked. “She was supposed to meet me here so I could teach her more about the testing of potential provender. This is a tricky one, not obvious at first examination.”
Planet Walkers Page 14
