“What is a ‘Founder?’” I asked Tap Tap. It had better not be like a Keeper, or I was going to protest, loudly. For what good it would do. If I were wise, I’d cultivate a certain fatalism when it came to our new “home” and my place in it.
Appendages fluttered. “Here is where the Founder lived, the first, the best was. Yes yes yes.”
“Is claimed to have lived. That’s up to our Seesor, Tap Tap.” Pauvan was among those Hoveny who’d arrived, the Clan making an aisle for them to approach our table.
The tiny Oud dropped down on my hand and wrist, as if to prove it would say nothing more.
Its clawed feet prickled, though less than the hooklike fabric of the cloaks of the giant version. I couldn’t say if it were cold or warm—and neither “it” or “he” was right. What had Milly used? “Nes?” My hair was fascinated with it, locks tumbling over my shoulders to reach but not quite touch again.
When the stuff had met the Oud, there’d been a not-unpleasant tingle, followed by a confused burst of images and words. Shocking, but I hadn’t been alarmed, for with the tangle came hope.
The rest was a message, still sorting itself into sense within my mind. The images were colorless and skewed; the words lumped together as though overheard or recorded. They’d gained a sequence: a pillar twin to Sona’s access portal, surrounded by stone and shadow; Confirmation request. Identification: Cersi-So; a streak of light across darkness, perhaps a night sky; again the pillar; the gate to futures past.
With a final image, not least: a city of buildings like the ones here, gleaming in the sun.
I’d shared the message with Morgan and Aryl. He was intrigued; my great-grandmother perturbed by the feel of Oud and wary. Their reactions encompassed my own. The ship’s transmission had been received, that much was clear. But a gate?
Pauvan inclined his head. “The Seesor would like to meet with you, Sira Di.”
Tap Tap spun about and flowed from my hand, diving end first back into the fabric bag. I rose to my feet, eager for some answers.
Morgan rose, too, his intention plain.
The Hoveny glanced at him, then to me. “With you only, Sira Di,” he emphasized. “You and Jason Di will remain in communication. I give my personal oath we will not interfere with your haisin.”
Implying they could interfere—unless it was a bluff. Even if true, I refused to believe they knew the extent of our capabilities. As for my Human’s? So far, the pack under the table hadn’t seemed to interest them. Their mistake.
Of course, they could know exactly what was in it and not care. That’d be disturbing.
“I’ll come,” I said, fingers moving in the signal for “remain here.” Usually one Morgan sent me, the occasional negotiation being outside my—
What mattered was he stay: to watch our people; to find a way to question Andi. Not to mention our wounded. I looked meaningfully toward the cots. What we could do if a transport came to move them I didn’t know, but if Morgan had to go along?
I’d follow.
A barely perceptible nod relieved those concerns. Not happy, my Chosen, but he understood.
“This way, please.”
Milly reached for the bag. Instead of picking it up, she pushed it toward me. “You’re to carry ner.”
There being no polite way to refuse, I picked up the bag of Oud, tucking it in the crook of my elbow. Aryl retreated to the limit of my awareness; being the more cautious of us. My hair, of course, took advantage of proximity to drape itself over the bag.
“My mother’s hair can move,” Milly informed me, “but she doesn’t let it. When I’m old, I won’t let mine move either.”
My hair gave a shiver. Take that, I thought at it, not that it ever listened.
Pauvan led, and I followed with the Oud and child, the remaining Hoveny falling in behind as escort. I brushed fingers with the Clan I passed, offering reassurance with the Power I no longer bothered to hide.
Each time, feeling the strange little Oud quiver.
Interlude
“WHERE ARE THEY TAKING SIRA?”
As if anyone could take his cousin anywhere she didn’t want to go. More telling, Barac judged, was the Human’s willingness to stay behind. Still, Ruti’s concern was a good sign—the first in too long. “To see Alisi, the person in charge. Maybe,” he dared a small smile, “she’s had enough of Degal.”
There, a tiny dimple. “Good luck with that.”
Encouraged, the Clansman edged closer. What he’d hoped to be a subtle move was broadcast by a dismaying squeak heard by at least five others, not to mention a sag and bounce from the ridiculous inflated couch.
But the dimple deepened, and Ruti leaned his way. Barac’s relief lasted as long as it took her small palm to plant firmly on his chest, holding him where he was. “We need to talk.”
He composed himself. Anything, Beloved.
She settled, hands together on her lap, then said as if it were the most ordinary request possible, “I want to go home.”
Had he heard right? Barac ventured carefully, “We’ll have homes soon—”
“Not here,” with a disarming chuckle. “Home, Barac. Our home. We’ll visit Acranam, of course, but then we’ll need to get back to Plexis—Huido’s counting on me to be his new chef and you’ll be wonderful as host.”
Instinct kept him still and quiet, when what Barac wanted to do was grab hold and shake sense from her. No, better to send, now, for Jacqui, their Birth Watcher. No, Ruis—Morgan—
Ruti’s dark lovely eyes searched his, her hair twining up his arm. “I’m not mad or delusional,” she told him quietly. “I’m aware, as I’ve never been. We don’t belong here. We have a home. We have so many people who love us.” Her full bottom lip trembled. “So many I thought I’d lost forever. And you. Don’t you want to be with your brother again? Your mother—?”
“They’re dead,” he said, his voice strange to his own ears.
Her gentle smile was betrayal. “That doesn’t matter anymore.”
Barac found himself on his feet, gasping for breath. Before anyone could react, he dropped to his knees before his Chosen. “Ruti—” Don’t. Please don’t listen. The dead are gone. The past. We have to think of the future. Our daughter.
“Oh,” a sigh. “I’m sorry, Barac. I thought you were ready.” She bent to press her lips against his forehead. We won’t go without you, I promise.
Barac buried his face between Ruti’s soft full breasts, and didn’t ask where.
In case she told him.
Chapter 22
WE DIDN’T GO FAR, walking past the parked vehicles to enter the other large “tent.” Walls divided the interior, creating a central corridor, with panels hung from metal rails across the openings to rooms. Some were rolled aside, allowing light and sound to spill into the hall; others closed. Milly skipped ahead to slide open a panel and disappear inside.
“This way, Sira Di,” Pauvan put his hand on the panel closest him, the first in the tent, and rolled it aside. “Alisi, our visitor is here.” He gestured for me to enter, closing the panel behind me.
I’d expected to join the three who’d already been summoned. Instead, I found myself in a small office, its walls lined with open bins of rock bits and the floor cluttered with larger ones so I had to tiptoe between them to the empty stool.
A female Hoveny sat on another, her back to me as she examined something on a table through a large lens. She raised an absent hand in the universal “give me a moment” signal, so I took my seat and waited.
Her white hair was confined in a series of snug black bands, but I hadn’t needed the clue. I’d been exploring with my inner sense since entering the tent, finding the bond between this Hoveny and Pauvan, along with a second, stronger, to Milly. This was the child’s mother.
And the leader here, Site Seesor Alisi Di, the one whose Power I�
��d sensed earlier.
Like the others, she wore a brown padded jacket, but hers was snug at waist and reinforced with heavier material across the shoulders. The jacket sleeves ended just below her elbows, her slender wrists covered by tight cuffs that either were part of another garment beneath, or protective bands. Brown pants completed an outfit designed for hard use, tucked into black boots with the tops rolled down. One boot was propped on a convenient rock sample. She’d a device strapped to one leg and another to her arm.
In contrast, I and most of the Clan wore torn, now-flimsy seeming ship’s coveralls and slippers. I decided to ask the Hoveny if they’d clothing to spare; a request to leave until I knew why I sat here, with a bag of Oud.
I rested the bag on my lap, unopened. Tap Tap could come out if it chose—I wasn’t inviting it to the meeting.
With a satisfied murmur, Alisi turned off the light she’d been using and turned on her stool to face me.
She had her daughter’s rainbow eyes, though her irises were more yellow than mauve, giving them a glow. Unlike the other Hoveny I’d seen, her cheeks and chin were round, both liberally covered with tan freckles, as was her broad forehead and short nose.
She folded her hands neatly, as though to prevent them moving without permission, her features composed. Like my Human, I decided, showing only what he wanted. If the Hoveny governed their faces, odds were they read facial expressions the Clan, reliant on their inner sense, would miss.
“Greetings, Sira Di. My name is Alisi Di,” she said in a surprisingly low voice, nodding her head in their version of a bow. “I’m the seesor appointed to this project.” She stood and held out her hand. “Welcome.”
I rose to take it in mine, shifting the bag under one arm. “We’re glad to be here. Thank you for your help.”
She had a warm, strong grip and, like most of the other Hoveny, no shields. I felt curiosity and goodwill.
Along with a significant and recent frustration. While her thoughts were too deep to reach without an effort I wouldn’t make, I could make an educated guess. Degal and Teris.
Acting on instinct, I lowered my own shields, just enough to let something of me pass to her. Gratitude. Determination. Above all, hope.
Alisi’s fingers tightened before letting go, the hint of a smile warming her face. “Welcome, Sira,” she repeated. “Please, sit.”
I settled the bag back on my lap; her gaze touched on it, then returned to me. “Your leaders were unwilling to answer my questions, though not to make demands.”
“Degal and Teris are concerned for our future,” I replied, choosing diplomacy. I’d knock their heads together later. “I apologize if they offended you, Alisi Di, but it’s been a difficult journey. Many of my people are fearful of strangers.”
“And we are strange to you, aren’t we?” Her expression lightened. “There’s no need to apologize, Sira. I’ve put your leaders with my staff, who are making lists I’m sure will prove useful. That is not my role here and now, nor yours.”
The bag squirmed. I wanted to do the same, but held still. “And that is?”
“A seesor judges the validity of claims brought before them. Before you arrived, I was investigating one concerning the building you saw when you arrived, a claim that, if true, would not only halt construction of this irrigation tunnel, but begin a major research project. I was studying these.” Alisi lifted her hand, indicating the rocks. “I now have a new claim to judge, one of import not only to this small part of Brightfall, but the entire System Cooperative.”
The world beneath my feet had a name—a name and was part of something bigger—which was enough to make my heart pound wildly in my chest, were it not for the rest, which made it want to stop.
“You mean us.”
“I mean you, Sira Di, and the claim made by my colleague in front of witnesses.”
“That I’m a ‘Founder?’” We’d appeared out of thin air on her landscape, arrived bleeding on her doorstep after riding giant Oud, and one word from Tap Tap was more important? I’d no problem looking shocked. I was. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“Then you’re alone.” Alisi’s face lost expression, becoming guarded. “We know what you are. The edicans analyzed your wounded during their treatment—at my order. Hoveny, yes, but without contact with those like us for generations. Together with the rare traits common among you, the lack of neuters, your speech, and where you arrived?” Her hand rose. “I am in no doubt. The Twelve left this system. You are their descendants, returned home. To this I, Alisi Di, Seesor, set my seal.”
Rote, those words; I’d a feeling they were spoken for other ears than mine.
We’d assumed—naïvely, it seemed—our origin would be the hard part to explain. I wished I believed her calm acceptance was a good thing. “We’re from a planet called Cersi,” I said. “We hope we’ve come home. We need to have come home, Alisi Di. My people are battered. Exhausted. I want to tell them they’re safe.”
Her eyes flickered at “Cersi,” then narrowed. “They are safe,” with reassuring firmness. “I’ve sent for those who can arrange housing and whatever else you may need. The calamity with the Field Oud will be investigated, I promise. Bringing me back to you.”
And this Founder claim of the Oud. “What do you think I am?” I asked cautiously.
“A demonstration, if you’ll indulge me.” Alisi swung around on her stool, grabbed a small rock at seeming random, then spun back to hand it to me. “Tell me what you see.”
I took it gingerly. “A rock.” Another twitch on my lap. I shrugged. “It looks like the rest here and outside.” I went to give it back to her.
“Look without your eyes. With your haisin.”
At a rock? I’d half-expected the seesor to produce a Hoveny artifact and ask me to connect it to the null-grid. Hadn’t that been the point of Cersi—of all this?
They may not know. It’s easier to hide an intention than starships, chit. Morgan, following my thoughts. If Cersi’s experiment was kept secret . . .
He left me to imagine the consequences. I tried not to, well aware of groups who did in secret what wouldn’t be allowed otherwise, seeking gain at the expense of others. What we’d hoped would be our currency here? It could taint us instead.
We need to learn all we can.
Good advice.
“Sira?”
Look at a rock. Seemed harmless enough. I closed my eyes and opened my awareness to the M’hir.
I wasn’t alone. Though weaker, Alisi had presence here, her light faint but steady, yet bound only to her family.
Brighter—crimson. Another light darted past, as strange as it was a surprise. Tap Tap?
Here here! Good good. Sira—Sira BEST IS!
Wonderful. I focused on the rock, or rather the feel of solid between my hands, expecting nothing.
Finding a door.
Interlude
BETWEEN—cracked—and a flaw appeared in AllThereIs.
Too small to see.
Too vast to ignore.
The Watchers stirred, alarmed. Sped forth in answer. Defend. Defy!
The one closest was already there. She refined her attention. Drew herself closer—closer.
Saw the flaw defined by light.
Tasted surprise. Experienced awareness.
Grasped—
Identity.
—and paused.
Chapter 23
I’D DROPPED the bag and thrown the rock before I realized I was in motion, scrabbling across the floor on my hands and knees. The bag spilled a ball of Oud that kept rolling.
I forced myself to stop. “What was that?” If my voice was hoarse and shook, well, I think I deserved it. What I’d seen in the M’hir—
What had seen me—
Sira?!
I’ll tell you later, I promised, sending reassurance t
o Aryl as well. Later being when I wasn’t on the floor and terrified. Had that blur—had I seen a Watcher?
Unfair! Hearing the things was enough for a lifetime.
“I don’t know what it is, Sira. I’d hoped you’d know.” Alisi retrieved the rock, putting it back on its shelf, and nudged Tap Tap from under the table with a toe. “Here. Easy.” She helped me stand. Once we were both convinced I could, she guided me back to my stool.
The stool tried to tip. I planted both feet firmly on the floor. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.” And fervently hoped never to again.
Nor have I, Great-granddaughter. Be wary.
“I’m sorry it was unpleasant, Sira.” Alisi sat, hands in her lap, a wistful look on her face. “I’ll admit I’m grateful you experienced something. I can tell it’s not just rock. That it has a connection elsewhere. But I haven’t the haisin to learn more—and I’ve been afraid to speak of it, even to my heart-kin. There’s a myth about the rock that buries our past. A dreadful one.”
Morgan valued local legend and myth, gathering such stories wherever we stopped to trade. They told, he’d assert, more about a species than all the datacubes he could buy.
I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to hear one about that rock, but he was listening, as was Aryl. It’d be his first from this new world; the notion pleased me. “What’s the myth?”
Alisi moved her hand as though wiping something away, the first such gesture I’d seen them use. “What matters is you, Sira, and that you were able to see something of its secrets. I must explain about the Founder, first—how much do you know of our past? About the Concentrix?”
Not enough, I thought, by far. “Only that the Concentrix included vast numbers of systems and species as well as the Hoveny.” The positive. In that much, I continued, “And it ended—abruptly. I don’t know why.”
“To this arn, ‘why’ remains a mystery, Sira, though anyone you ask has their favorite theory.” Her eyes clouded. “How it ended—that we do know. The Fall, we call it, when what our ancestors had built and shared across their empire stopped working. All at once, everywhere. Because their power source—what we’d given to our partners, freely—was gone.”
The Gate to Futures Past Page 25
