Fire in the Sky tst-1

by Jo Clayton

There were more yellow ovals scattered about. One brought a bunk bed sliding from the wall. One a toilet. One opened a hole in the wall he was told would have food for him at the proper time. The one that pleased him most opened a narrow door that led into a small square patio. There were four concrete benches set against the windowless walls that enclosed the place, a tree and a fountain in the middle, a hideous squat thing, but at least there was moving water in it. As if the builder that made this ugly heap had designed the bare minimum for folk who need green and sky to stay alive.

  He shuffled to one of the benches and sat down. A moment later more doors opened and the others came out to join him, sitting silent, staring at the fountain and the single finger of water rising to dance with a grace that damned its surroundings.

  Teдrall was the youngest of them, the most impatient. She pushed gray-streaked brown hair back from her square bony face. “Why? I thought we were dead. This is almost as bad as dead, but not quite. Why are we alive?”

  Brion stared at her a moment, then his face crumpled and he started crying. She was there instead of Temuen. Temuen was dead.

  Though there was no answer that first day to Teдrall’s question, the following days gave them ample reason. They were questioned, poked, prodded. Samples were taken of all their body fluids. They were laid out on tables, lights shone at them, they were drawn through long machines. Do this, do that, they were told. And they did whatever they were told, moving like cabhisha before the nipping and barking of a herd dog.

  For the first tenday they were given no smoke to drink.

  Sulantha died on the third day, falling against Brion as they walked about the bleak garden.

  He wept for a moment, then forgot why as soon as her body was removed. He was flashing in and out of awareness. His body ate and slept and moved about, but most of the time he only knew that when one of the mesuch guards slapped his face to wake him from his trance of nonthinking. By the end of the tenday, even this barely reached him. He spent most of the time sleeping in the sun in the patio, curled up knees to chest, Camach and Teдrall nestled beside him.

  On the eleventh day he woke in his cell and found a bowl with fragments of husk on the floor beside the cot, smoke rising in blue white twists. He dropped off the edge of the cot, sprawled on the floor, his face close to the bowl as he sucked in the smoke.

  When he woke from the trance, he went outside and sat on his bench, watching the water dance. There were drawbacks to awareness. Grief and pain and anger churned in him. He thought about opening a vein. He also knew the mesuch would not permit him to die on his own time. He thought about Sulantha. Thought she was luckier than she knew. Her soul was free and would be rebodied in a quieter time. He didn’t think about Temuen, turned his mind away whenever the image of her flickered behind his eyes.

  Teдrall came out. Her eyes were red and wild, her plain face made plainer by a scowl. “Do you know what they’re doing?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re test animals. They’re using us to figure what the husk does. They’re using us to find a way of growing husk. Like Keteng breed cabhisha for their hair and their meat. Do you hear me, Brion? Do understand what they’re doing?”

  Brion blinked at her, then he nodded. “Yes.”

  “We’ve got to do something.” She waved away his warning. “Cha oy, I know they’re listening. What does that matter?” She turned as Camach came slouching out, his eyes seeing things in the otherwhere. “Cama, do you know what they’re doing? Listen to me, do you know?”

  His body shuddered and his gaze shortened till he was looking at her. He said, “They told me to tell you, they’ll be coming for the three of us this afternoon. More tests.”

  “Oh.”

  3

  MedTech First Muhaseb shifted in his pulochair and looked nervous as he waited for the Ykkuval’s attention.

  Hunnar was leaning back, eyes closed, hand waving to the lively stomp that Ilaцrn coaxed from his harp.

  Ilaцrn watched that hand and brought the stomp to an end when he saw the movement go ragged and lose even an approximation of the beat. He segued into pale background paste that Hunnar could ignore. He would have pushed it longer if he’d dared; he didn’t want to see Muhaseb’s pictures, his stomach still burned from the last time. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes though he knew he would open them later when the picture show began.

  Hunnar’s chair hummed as he swung to face the med-tech. “You said you had a report.”

  “Yes, O Ykkuval. You asked us to keep you informed on progress as we made it.”

  “And?”

  “Ah mmm, this phase was rather more mmm incomplete than we liked, however, we do have sufficient date to make the next phase more successful.”

  “Incomplete?”

  “Ah mmm, unfortunately the subjects had to be dispatched before the series was complete. We have mmmm taken them apart and examined the pieces…” His mouth twitched into a sour smile. “Mmmm, boiling jam from spoiled fruit as it were. Would you prefer to examine the conclusions first or do you wish to see the process develop?”

  “Skip the beginning. I want to know why you wasted the subjects I had my guards collect for you.”

  “Mmmm. Yes. I must repeat, O Ykkuval, our experience in this sort of exploration is minimal at best. We are trained to deal with illnesses and injuries among the work force and must proceed from the most general of principles in this study. If you will watch the screen. Scenes from the day in question. We had deprived them of the smoke for a tenday and observed a growing disconnect from reality until sometimes they failed to respond even to the most intense of pain stimuli. Examination of body fluids and cells taken from various organs indicate what seems to be mmmm a nearly complete integration of the drug with the cell structure so that deprivation leads to a shutting down of most functions. The oldest of the subjects, a female, suffered a massive disruption of the brain on the third day and died. As I said, the others were shutting down more completely with each day that passed and would probably have followed the woman into death if we had continued the deprivation for a second tenday. While testing to destruction would be of some value, it was determined to begin a new phase, if you will observe the screen, O Ykkuval.”

  The wall screen came alive. It was divided into four cells. In three of them skeletal figures are lying on wall cots like corpses laid out for burying. The cell door slides open, a pole pushes a bowl of smoldering husk into the room. Before the door closes, all three have rolled off the cots and are hunched over the bowls, faces stupid with a combination of ecstasy and need as they suck the smoke into mouths and nostrils. The fourth cell is the patio, empty now, the only movement the flutter of leaves and the dancing of the column of water.

  “You will observe how quickly function is restored once sufficient smoke is ingested. The need is different for each of the three as evidenced by the duration of their intake. It is interesting also that the first thing each of them does is move into the open, into the semblance of a garden we provided them with.”

  Hunnar listened to Teдrall’s speech, held up his hand.

  The tech stopped the movement. “Yes, O Ykkuval?”

  “Was there any discussion in the hearing of the subjects as to why this is being done to them?”

  “None, O Ykkuval. We were careful only to give the necessary orders. Not a word beyond that was spoken at any time. Not even in Chava.”

  “And they’re peasants. Drudges. How does she know?”

  “Ah mmm. O Ykkuval, we know almost nothing about local culture or how developed it might be. There are reports that there was a primitive kind of electrical system in the village we took over. It is quite possible that certain types among them have developed a certain philosophical sophistication somewhat beyond their technical capacity.”

  “Ump.”

  “Our mmm miscalculation of their potential arose from their passivity. Only the one showed any resistance at all, that was, of course, the woman shot by y
our guard when he gathered these for us. She should have been factored into our expectations, but that was not done.”

  The image on the wall flickered and shifted to a single screen showing a corridor and three people shuffling along it, meager, almost skeletal figures, shoulders rounded, heads down.

  “As you can see, passive, low energy, wasted bodies. However, watch what happens next.”

  Another jump, from the corridor to the testing facility. Lab techs herded the three subjects into cubicles, ordered them to undress and lie down.

  There was no signal given, no word spoken, but in the same second all three jumped their techs. They did no damage, but the sudden attack provoked the Chav defensive reaction and they ended as ragged fragments splattered against the wall.

  “The techs have been disciplined. Level one only because of the provocation and the previous passivity which made the attack such a surprise that they acted automatically and killed rather than restrained the subjects.” He touched the sensor and the screen went blank. “If you wish, O Ykkuval, I can take you through the autopsies and the examination of brain cell development, or I can give you a summary of what we think as of now.”

  “Leave the flake with the details, I’ll examine it later. Summarize now.” He glanced at a wall chron. “You have three minutes.”

  “Ah mmm every cell we examined departed widely from the Cousin norm, insofar as there is a norm and considering the limited resources of our filing system. Some were wasted until they were hardly recognizable as cells, some hyperdeveloped, all of them, even the atrophied, had a patch of odd-shaped receptors which we believe is the site where one component or other the smoke attaches. That is not necessarily true. Ah mmmm we would appreciate your including a nonaddicted young form of the species in the next collection. We need a base form to validate our conclusions. At the moment these are that prolonged exposure to the husk smoke induces physical changes in the brain and body structure. The functioning of the body and thus life itself becomes completely dependent on the continued use of the smoke, but what those changes do to thought patterns, indeed, the ability to think and reason, we don’t at present know.” He rose to his feet, placed hand over hand and bowed. “Within my three minutes, I believe. If you have further questions, I will be happy to return.”

  When the bell sounded, Hunnar clicked on the speaker, snapped, “Quiet.”

  Ilaцrn took his hands from the strings, and sat silent and disregarded in his corner.

  A small voice said, “Kurz.”

  Ilaцrn recognized both name and voice and set himself to listen carefully and remember what he heard. He’d gotten word out about the spy, but in the past tenday the harpist who usually answered him had been silent, so he had no way of knowing if he’d played to empty air or listening ears.

  Hunnar hunched forward, the inner lids drooping down so his eyes glistened to show the intensity of his attention. “Listening. Speak.”

  “Have visited the four Marishes and some fifteen bands of choreks. The cutters have been distributed. The information about the bounties on the heads of the University team is passing quickly from mouth to mouth and I have already seen several bands making their way toward the village where the team is now. Unless they are warned by a bungled attempt and take precautions, they should soon cease to exist. Also there will soon be severe disturbances in the lives of the villagers and the local farmers as the chorek use their new firepower to enrich themselves, which further dampen the efforts of the Yaraka to ingratiate themselves with the locals.”

  “You want more cutters?”

  “Yes. At the drop as arranged. Plus a new unit for the miniskip. The damp and local fauna have damaged the old one to the point that my freedom of movement has been severely curtailed. This is the more frustrating since I’ve heard of forest chorek and meant to cross to the mountains and begin enlisting them. I have achieved a tentative connection with one of the political choreks with ties in that direction.”

  “You are well?”

  “Yes. Though rather bored. This business has proceeded with an almost ludicrous ease.”

  “May your boredom continue. Good work, Kurz. But take care. I’ve just been reminded that the locals have teeth and can use them.”

  “Pitiful teeth, O Ykkuval, along with an ignorance so vast it is astonishing. How soon can the drop be made? I am lying concealed near the area.”

  Hunnar glanced at the wall chron. “Three hours till dark here. I’ll have Asgel load the flik and start across an hour from now. He should reach the drop a little after sundown. Congratulations again, Kurz. You have exceeded expectation, as usual.”

  Ilaцrn sat in the Dushanne Garden listening to a distant harp with a relief that he carefully concealed although he was alone for the moment. In the rhythms was an acknowledgement of his message and a warning to be listening for news later in the tenday. He sighed and brushed at his eyes as he saw the airwagon rise above the Kushayt and go darting westward. Somewhere out there an Eolt would be riding the wind currents in the same direction, making xe’s relatively slow and labored way to Chuta Meredel. Time. The mesuchs ate time the way crogalls ate meat, swallowing in chunks what other beings nibbled at.

  They were going to, eat this world like that. Hunnar and his lot. We’re to be fodder for their appetites, especially the Keteng. Kept in herds like caцrags, raised for the husk from the Sleepers, the hatchling Eolt for the pleasure of the hunt. I will die before I see that I hope I will die. The thought twisted his stomach in knots. He groaned aloud. How can I with this…, this burr in my head that won’t even let me think the thought without…

  The distant harp had settled to an old song, one of those from the flight time, from so long ago and so far away that even dreams couldn’t reach there.

  “My lover has gone away, gone away, oh

  My lover has gone across the wide sea

  My heart is sore, my heart hurts, oh

  Bring back my wandering lover to me…”

  He listened until the sad pure notes faded; his eyes burned with the need to weep, but he had no tears left.

  12. The Price is Right

  1

  Dumel Minach was the first walled town Shadith had seen on Bйluchad. The blai was outside the walls and reflected that isolation with tiny slits for windows and shutters that looked as if they could repel cannon balls. A branch of the Menguid ran past the place, a narrow rushing stream full of rapids and waterfalls. Paired wooden rails with a skim of iron nailed to the top of each ran along the leveled riverbank, laid across the squared-off trunks of large trees set a long pace apart. A walkway was laid down between the rails, with slats of wood to give purchase to the clawed feet of the draft dammalt used to pull the lines of tramcars loaded with roughly refined ores from the mines and flatbeds loaded with lumber.

  One of those trains was moving along the rails as Maorgan rode past Shadith and yanked the bell chain dangling beside a kind of gatehouse set like a wart on the wall beside massive doors. It was late, the sun was already down, just a few streaks of red and purple touching the clouds and the near dozen Eolts drifting above the Dumel.

  They were singing the night in, the great organ notes echoing back from the peaks with a beauty that made her heart hurt.

  Danor stirred. His hands and arms were confined by the ropes that tied him onto the stretcher, but his head turned back and forth and he muttered. His fever had begun to rise again half an hour ago and she was getting increasingly worried about him. She set her hand on his brow, tried to sooth him with a brush from the mindtouch. It seemed to help. She suspected that grazing of the mind brought back sense memories of the sioll bond and made him forget his loss for a moment or two.

  Maorgan was standing now, his caцpa groundhitched beside him, browsing wearily at the new green tips of a bush at the edge of a small green garden. The wind was rising, and between that, the Eolts’ song and the noise of the passing train, she couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the set of his shoulders told he
r he was angry.

  One of the Eolt left the others, rose to a higher air stratum, and began gliding toward them. Melech, probably. Though she hadn’t yet seen enough Eolt to be able to distinguish between them. Xe rode the winds down, slapped a tentacle against the shutter, slid the end of the tentacle across Maorgan’s face with an affection a blind man could read, then let the winds carry xe aloft again.

  The argument was over.

  Maorgan came striding to her, raised his voice so she could hear above the noise. “Bring the caцpas round to the side. We’ll go in through the stable. It’ll be easier on Danor that way.”

  She slid down, took the reins of the litter ponies while he led his own mount, Brйou, and the single packer they had left. “What was the problem?”

  “We’re late. They’d already shut the doors and didn’t want to open up again, especially not for strangers. Wouldn’t believe I was Ard until Melech threw xe’s snit. We’re lucky in one thing. There’s a doctor in the blai. Accident at one of the mines. He got back after the Dumel gates were shut.”

  * * *

  A stocky Denchok with a rifle under xe’s arm was standing inside the stable waiting for them. Xe had lifted the bar on the massive portal, but left it to them to haul it open and drive the caцpas inside. Xe glanced at the litter. “What happened to him?”

  “Chorek. They’re dead.”

  “Good.” Xe relaxed when xe saw the harpcase Maorgan lifted from the packer. “Said you was Ard. Playing for us tonight?”

  “We’ll both be playing once we get Ard Danor settled. My companion is also a harpist.”

  The hostler looked past Maorgan, looked away without comment. After a minute he said, “You want help moving him? Said I was to ask.”

  “No, we can handle it. You just take good care of the caцpas, they’ve given good service and need a little coddling. Leave the packs by the door inside, someone will come pick it up later. Shadowsong, shall we get started?”