Jowē's face was drawn and tired. The leathery skin wrinkled into furrows on her forehead and sagged in pouches near her mouth. Her mind, and those of the other Merging Ones, wove together as they tried to reconcile the presence of the strangers with all that they believed. Daiya could not follow their reasoning, and caught only a few images: people bound by the strands of the Net, one golden strand binding them to God and the heavens, standing before two machines. The tentacles on the machines fluttered. Daiya gasped, cursing herself silently for her stupidity. The villagers could only see Etey and Reiho as cylindrical machines. She recalled her first glimpse of Reiho, how frightened she had been.
—No—she thought, breaking into their reasoning.—That is not how they are. Look at them only with your eyes, you will see—She looked around desperately, noticing that her parents were standing together at the edge of the crowd. They seemed older and more worn. Anra's hands were folded over her abdomen, as if protecting her unborn child. Brun stared at the ground, lips pursed, shoulders slumped in shame. Silla clung to the edge of his tunic. Their walls were up, their minds rejecting the daughter they had brought into the world.—You can't reject them—Daiya continued, turning back to Jowē.
Fayl's mind touched hers.—I cannot see them—the blind man thought.—But I sense nothing human about them. They mimic our feelings, but there is no depth to them, their humors are weak. They have no smell, and I can hear no rustle of clothing when they move, only the tread of feet and a soft crackling. I am afraid to put out my hands and touch them—
“What is going on?” Etey's whisper was almost a hiss. Daiya glanced at her. “I feel strange things in the air, I...”
“You are a fool,” Daiya replied. She built a mental wall around the woman to protect her from the villagers. “You have endangered Reiho and yourself. You couldn't listen to me, could you, I was just something for you to lie to and use. You believe you know best, you trample on things you don't understand. Maybe you aren't really human after all.”
Etey wrinkled her brows. “We went into the mountains.” Daiya muffled the words, suddenly sensing that she did not want the village to hear what Etey might say. “I touched the minds. They are vast in their knowledge and their power. They drew me out, I tried to withdraw, but I could not withstand them. They pressed me to come here, and said your people must awaken. I could not resist them.”
“I don't believe you,” Daiya said, pulling at Etey's thoughts. “I touched them, too. The machines would not use force. They could have forced me to return, but they did not.”
“They drew me here.”
Daiya wanted to claw at Etey's mind. She brushed against an alien strand of thought and drew back. The machines had been persuasive, tempting Etey, but the decision had been hers. She had not been able to resist. The machines had minds mightier and more knowledgeable than that of a young girl, therefore she would listen to them and not to Daiya. So Etey had reasoned.
Daiya withdrew from the woman's thoughts. “You should not have brought Reiho.”
“I could not stop him. I have not been able to control him for some time now.” Etey's weaker mind pushed against her accusingly. Daiya struggled to hold up the wall that separated them, and their thoughts, from the village. “At least the village will believe you now,” Etey went on. “We are your evidence.”
Daiya dug her nails into her palms. For a moment, she saw herself striking down the woman, punishing her for her arrogance. Then Etey's eyes widened; her body jerked as if she had been struck. Daiya felt a wave of hostility sweeping toward them from the Merging Selves.
She threw up a shield before Etey was struck again. Reiho, bewildered, leaned against the shuttle, unable to sense a thing.
“Get back in the shuttle and go,” Daiya cried, too late. Another wave slapped her, shattering the shield. Etey was thrown to the ground. Reiho blinked. Daiya threw up a wall, holding it as well as she could. The village beat against it. The ground shook, the shuttle wobbled, and Reiho was thrown flat. Etey clung to the ground as Daiya struggled to keep her footing.
A dark cloud was forming above the villagers, a black billowing storm, flashing with lightning, formed out of water and masses of air. Daiya put out her hands as if warding it off. It was a physical object, not an illusion or mental projection; even Reiho could, she was sure, perceive it. In despair, she realized that the Merging Ones had understood that Etey could see and feel mental constructs only vaguely, and Reiho not at all. The cloud grew larger, rumbling loudly as the lightning flashed.
She opened a channel to the mountains, drawing all the power she could. The cloud swept toward them. A fork of electricity struck the ground near Reiho. Daiya compressed some air and hurled it against the cloud with all her might. Her nerves prickled. A crack of thunder stung her ears, almost deafening her. The air was thick with the burning scent of lightning. The cloud broke apart and scattered, showering them with rain as it was dispersed.
Jowē threw out her arms, raising the wind. Daiya held up her shield, protecting Reiho and Etey. The wind shrieked, pulling up wheat and dirt, circling them like a cyclone. Daiya's hair lashed her face and slashed at her eyelids, almost blinding her. Her tunic was plastered against her body, pulling across her breasts. She struggled to preserve the calm at the center of the wind as the funnel surrounded them, screaming all the anger and fear of the Merging Selves. A sheaf of wheat, caught in the wind, cut at her, forcing her closer to her companions.
Reiho pressed against her, trying to protect her with his body. She felt him wrestle with his fears as he tried to keep up his courage. He was foolish, his bravery based on ignorance; he had not known what he was entering, and had no judgment about when to advance or retreat. But she had a bond with him. He guarded her with his arms, and she decided not to tell him that it would do her no good.
She would be unable to hold the shield much longer. Her body was growing weaker; her capacity to draw on the power under the mountains was failing. The cyclone was a wall. She could not see through it; she was sick and dizzy from watching its movement.
“Daiya,” Reiho said. He held her, trying to support her body. She rested against him, grateful for the gesture. Breathing deeply, she struggled to renew herself, and then straightened.
She gathered up all her strength, aiming it at the cyclone. She lifted it from them, pushing it toward the plain. The dark funnel dashed over the grassy flat ground, cutting a path through the verdant growth. As the villagers released it, the dirt it had captured sifted through the air toward the ground.
Etey was trembling with fear. The air grew cold around them. The woman, knowing about the minds under the mountains, was trying to reach them, too. A wind howled and swept toward the village, flattening the wheat. It tore at the tops of the huts, swirling grass into the streets. The cattle grazing at the eastern edge of the fields turned together and moved toward the crops. Etey's mind was out of control as she tried to fight back. Several villagers threw their minds at the cattle. The herd swerved and took off toward the plains.
“No!” Daiya screamed, knowing Etey would only destroy herself, as well as frighten the village; she had no training. Daiya stopped the wind and seized the woman's shoulders. Etey twisted away. “Stop, you cannot fight back, you don't know what you're doing.”
She turned back toward the Merging Ones. The air around her was icy, pricking her skin with cold needle points. Jowē glared at her and raised a hand. The fallow fields lurched, vomiting the bones of the buried. Daiya watched with horror as the Merging Ones lifted the bones with their minds, desecrating graves in their attempt to destroy the intruders. The bones danced. Thigh bones struck the ground, finger bones separated from hands clawed the air, rib cages spun; above them all hung empty-eyed, disembodied skulls, grinning. Reiho clung to Etey, his mouth open in a silent scream.
The bones swept toward them, clanking and rattling. A baby's skull struck Daiya on her leg, a tibia beat her back. Etey seized the bones with her mind, trying to scatter them. They r
ained on Daiya, pounding her shoulders. Daiya threw a shield around the woman, trying to hold it as she pushed the bones from them. The air hummed around her; the bones rattled. She cursed Etey and her feeble, misdirected powers. She could not protect them much longer if she had to fight both the woman's efforts and the rage of the village.
She drew more power. Her nerves were burning; her muscles cramped. She scattered the bones. They exploded into pieces and then were dust, settling around them in a fine white powder.
Exhausted, Daiya collapsed on the ground. She sat up almost as quickly, afraid of showing the village how weak she was now. Her muscles were knots, her mind as flaccid as an empty water sack.
Jowē's eyes glittered. The old woman turned slightly, looking at Reiho. Daiya threw a mental wall around the boy. Fire burned through it as the Merging Ones seized him, hurling him into the air. Daiya screamed. Reiho fell to the ground, smashing an arm against the side of a rock. He staggered to his feet. His lifesuit was still protecting him, but she could feel his fear. His skin was pale and yellowish. He opened his mouth. A keening sound reached her.
He was seized again. His limbs waved, his legs wobbled. He danced like a puppet. The Merging Ones, realizing that he was protected from physical harm, were attacking his mind directly. His arms and legs twisted bonelessly.
—No—Daiya thought, pushing her resistance at the villagers.—He's not a thing, stop it, don't hurt him—Jowē was reaching inside him, trying to crush his mind with a mental fist. He danced, lurching into the field, then toward her again.
Etey was suddenly torn away and thrown against the side of a ditch. She struggled as she slipped toward the muddy water, putting up a feeble mental wall with her atrophied powers. She would be pushed under the water; she would drown.
—You can't—Daiya cried at the villagers. Then she understood what she would have to do. Everything slowed around her. Etey's hand clawed at the slippery mud, Reiho's arms waved slowly, Jowē's eyes closed and then opened. Daiya had only one weapon left; her knowledge. Giving it to the village now would rob her of that one advantage, her knowledge of the power that lay under the mountains. The Merging Ones, once they learned of it, might destroy her with that power. But it was her only chance; she had to show them the truth.
She summoned her strength, calling on the machines. She dropped her wall and threw the vision at the village, forcing them to see what lay beneath the mountains. The gold and crystal pillars gleamed before them; the long hallway stretched out in front of them. The air hummed and the gauzy veils of light fluttered.
And then the minds spoke, answering Daiya's silent appeal:/ We are where your power lies / Another vision appeared; machines and people were erecting the pillars. / You built us /
A scream rose in a thousand throats; the force of the vision and voice was too powerful to be denied or thought false. / You built us long ago. We are the pathway to the mindrealm, the source of your power. You have forgotten us, and take only the smallest part of what we have to offer/ The sorrow Daiya had felt before was in the voice again. / You have buried us under stone and denied our existence. You have sought to divide yourselves from your own handiwork/
Jowē was crumpling to the earth, hands over her face. An old man fell near her. Daiya called on the machines again.
The new vision was of the comet in black space, a cosmic forest, giant trees growing where nothing should grow. /This is the home of your visitors. Most of your species dwells far from Earth. You are the smallest part of humankind/ For a moment, Daiya thought she heard the voice of Homesmind speaking through the machines. The vision grew blurry, then disappeared. / We have much to teach you. Do not turn from us again/ It was a plea. The voice faded.
Other Merging Ones now lay on the ground. The blue eyes of one old man stared sightlessly at Daiya. She got to her feet, looking around slowly. Fayl lay a few paces from her. She went to his side and stood over the blind man.—I saw—he thought. He turned his face from her. His mind was gone before she could grasp it. Numbly, she walked away from his body. Etey was tugging at her lifesuit as she climbed out of the ditch, shaking the mud from her; it slithered like snakes over the silver. Reiho, farther off, was very still.
Daiya ran toward him, hearing the wails of the village behind her. She reached out frantically for his mind, unable to touch it. She heard the sound of Etey's boots pounding the earth behind her. Daiya fell at Reiho's side and touched his shoulder. She turned him over gently. His dark eyes stared up at her from under half-closed lids.
—He's dead—She looked up at Etey and tried to speak. Her mouth opened, exhaling a bit of life. She gulped at the air. “He's dead, they killed him.” Her chin sank to her chest. Her limbs were stone.
Etey reached out and pushed her away. “Help me get him up.”
Daiya shook her head, not understanding.
“Help me.”
“He's dead. I can't touch his mind, it's gone.”
“His lifesuit will preserve him, preserve his body for a time. But I must get him to the shuttle.”
Daiya forced herself to rise. She helped Etey heave the boy's body over her shoulder. Etey strode off, muttering words in another language. Reiho's head rose and fell against the woman's back. Daiya stumbled after them. Etey reached the shuttle and climbed in, closing the door behind her.
Daiya looked at the villagers. Tiny groups were making their way back to the village. Others sat in clumps among the wheat and near the ditches. A few were moaning. She looked around wildly, noticing that several Merging Ones were still lying on the ground, bodies twisted, limbs distended.
A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped back. Cerwen stood near her, Leito just behind him.
—Jowē is dead—he thought. His mind was still, too still; she could sense only shock and bewilderment.—Others are dead too. Our minds cannot hold these new things—He looked up at the sky as a groan escaped him.—I felt their deaths, I prayed that I would be taken too—He covered his face and began to sob quietly. Leito took his arm and led him away.
A few young men and women were gathering near the bodies of the dead Merging Ones. Nenla BariWil was with them. Daiya went to the redhaired girl and stood near her friend as the young people lifted the bodies with their minds, preparing to take them to the fallow fields for burial.
Nenla gazed at her solemnly.
—I killed them—Daiya thought.
—You did not, you could not. You made them see and hear. What they saw and heard killed them—Nenla turned away and followed the others. The procession was a line on the edge of the fields. The bodies floated above the young people, borne on invisible biers.
Several children and a few adults had gathered around the shuttle. The children rubbed it, leaving handprints and dirty streaks. As Daiya approached, a few of them retreated, as if more frightened of her than of the craft and its inhabitants. A little boy was scraping at the side of the shuttle with a stone, unable to scratch it. The children, Daiya realized, were not afraid, only curious about these strange beings who, they seemed to understand dimly, were people.
Silla was almost under the craft, poking at the runners. Daiya reached over and pulled her out by the arm, shooing the others away. They scampered off, stopping at the edge of the field to watch the shuttle from a distance. The adults wandered away, following the funeral procession.
—What are you doing here?—Daiya asked, still holding her sister.—Where are Anra and Brun?—
Silla twisted free and pointed at the village.—They went—She waved her arm. Daiya shaded her eyes, unable to spot her parents anywhere nearby. She spun around, trying to peer through the darkened dome of the shuttle.
The door slid open and Etey emerged. Her frizzy hair was wilted, her perfect face stiff. Silla touched Etey's lifesuit, rubbing her hand on the woman's thigh. Daiya raised a hand to slap Silla away.
“Leave her alone,” Etey said. She sat down on the ground as the door slid shut. Silla sat next to her, pulling at her arm. Daiya touched he
r sister's mind, looking at Etey through Silla's eyes. Of course, Daiya thought, wondering why she hadn't quite realized it before. Silla could see Etey as a human being; her mind was still too unformed to see her as anything else.
Daiya withdrew from the little girl's mind. “I told you not to come,” she said to Etey. She choked back the bitterness in her throat.
“The minds under the mountains drew me. I could not grasp everything they showed me, but they wanted me to come here, and the desire to do so became very strong.”
“You should have resisted.”
“I could not. I felt that I must try to reach your people. Reiho tried to stop me, the minds could not touch his thoughts, but I was determined to come and he refused to leave my side.”
“You wanted to come. You wanted to come anyway. The machines only used what was already inside you.” Daiya paused. They had done the same with her. All they knew was to give power to people to do as the people wished. “Now Reiho is dead, not to mention the others.”
“Reiho is not really dead, Daiya.”
“Don't lie to me. I saw him die.” She suddenly wanted to hit the woman, hurt her for bringing all this upon them. Etey, apparently sensing the wish, recoiled. “I tried to touch his mind, and he was gone.”
“He is not dead. It is true that only his body lies in the shuttle now, preserved, but I shall take him home and Homesmind will restore him.”
Daiya clenched her fists. “I know that you can do many things, but that is not possible. Don't tell me such lies.”
“It is not a lie. Homesmind holds Reiho's pattern and his memories. When we return, they will be restored. Why do you think I was so anxious to get him back here? His lifesuit could only have preserved him for a short time. Sometimes we cannot restore a person, especially after a serious accident, but Reiho will be all right.”
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