by Dave Freer
Finally Keilin had had enough of S'kith's brooding gloom. They were alone on the deck, shrouds of rain obscuring the dark, tree-covered banks. Below them the near-black water rushed and gurgled. Without quite knowing why he did it, Keilin took the ring with its core section out of his ankle pouch. He held it out to S'kith. S'kith took it, held it awhile against his face, and then returned it, all in silence. But it seemed to have eased the misery somewhat.
"What's wrong?" Keilin asked.
"I am . . . afraid. Afraid of going back to the hive. I am afraid of the dark, afraid of the smallness. Afraid of the horrible, endless . . . sameness most of all. You are free-born, friend. You don't—you can't—understand what it means just to have new things happen. You see," he sighed, "in the hive there is this . . . pattern. The pattern never changes, until you die. And it makes you—" he searched for words—"numb. Numb to everything. And you don't even know that you can't feel . . . You just exist . . . you don't think at all, you just do. And the worst of all is that you're scared by anything different. The sameness, the numbness is horrible, but you know it. And it is so, so secure you don't want to change it." He sighed again. "Changes . . . variety. Those were the hardest things to learn how to deal with when I escaped. But . . . I now have come to love the changes. I don't exist. I am alive. I feel. And now Cap is taking me back. I . . . the piece that is me, the alive person, not just some endlessly repeat-bred thing, will die there." It was the longest speech Keilin had ever heard S'kith make. It was also said with more expression and emotion than he'd known the man could muster. He wasn't finished yet either. He pointed at the hatch cover and shuddered. "Down there . . . that is very like the hive. And this . . . disappearing into the grayness out here is very like what will happen to me when I go back."
"So why don't you run away?" said Keilin simply. "Avoiding Cap wouldn't be that hard, for all he pretends to be God . . . it's a big world. You've learned enough to live in it now. You're a fantastically quick learner. You knew next to nothing a few months ago, but you've learned. You've come from being like a child of three to a teenager in very little time. I'll steal enough supplies for you to hide out for the time it takes to grow your hair and a beard. You've the money I gave you. Don't go back to the hive. You don't have to."
"I have the money that you gave me, and some more the little one you call Princess also gave to me. It is odd. I did not know she liked me. Must I have sex with her now?" The man sighed. "I spent some money in that last town. It was strange. The man in the shop thought I could not count and that he would cheat me. But I remembered what you told me. He will almost certainly live. However, that is aside from the point: I cannot run away even if I wanted to. I cannot go more than two hundred fifty yards from Cap for more than twenty minutes. Even when I followed you into Amphir I knew that we were close to him, outside the wall."
"Why not? I mean don't believe everything Cap says. He's got being the great leader on the brain," said Keilin, first making damn sure his disrespect wasn't being overheard.
"He has placed a small explosive device in my abdomen. I still have the scar. He demonstrated to me how it works. After twenty minutes of being further than half a mile away from him I would be as dead as the hive wants me to be. He explained it to me very carefully . . . to make utterly certain I would not run away," said S'kith quietly.
Keilin sat in shocked silence. Finally he said. "I'll check with Bey. There must be a way . . ." But he had a sinking feeling. He remembered Beywulf saying to S'kith when the man joined them on the roofs of Amphir, "Aren't you too far . . . ?" and S'kith's strange reply. He'd meant to ask about it, but had forgotten about it after all that had happened. Another thought occurred to him. "And for God's sake don't mention the idea of sex to Shael!"
"It will offend her? I do not understand. But as to speaking to the foodmaker, it doesn't matter too much. I would not go anyway." S'kith was quiet for a long time. "I could not leave you, friend—nor Leyla. You see, until I left the hive I was a man alone. Throughout my childhood, throughout my life I was alone. The warrior brood sows loved me . . . but they did not trust me. You do not trust in the hive. To trust is to die. But you have trusted me . . ."
For two hundred years the Alpha-Morkth had tried to breed hive loyalty into their slaves. They would have been dismayed to see that where they had failed, human nature had succeeded, against all odds.
Keilin felt guilty. All he'd ever done was to feel sorry for the odd man. Suddenly S'kith turned away from the gray view to look at Keilin. There was life in his strange eyes. "I know what I will do. I will teach you the bioenhancement routines. You have taught me so much. It was forbidden for one human to teach another in the hive. I shall teach you, and take joy in defying the Morkth."
* * *
Three days later, the barge sailed out onto the wide, ice-free Elbe River. On the east bank lay Morkth-occupied lands. To the west the new Empire of Tynia. It was the first sunlight they'd seen for days and the whole party were up on deck, soaking up the weak watery stuff. A skiff full of armed men came sailing out from one of the fishing villages on the western bank. Leyla readied her bow.
"Leave that alone, you daft woman. Them's guvment people," bellowed the steersman. S'kith touched Keilin's hand. "Back," he said quietly. "Start your routine. We must go over the side." Using the party as cover they slipped like rats over the far gunwale. Keilin had just time to catch Shael's eye and nod towards the steersman.
There was a trailing rope hanging from the anchor port, down into the water. It sluiced by green and cold as the barge moved downcurrent. They hung onto the rope like fruit, listening to the boarding party. "We've had a tip-off from a jewel merchant in Riverport that three jewel thieves are coming downriver on a barge. We're searching each vessel for three men. One hairy, short and broad one, like that man," the official pointed at Bey. "One bald one . . . could be you, sir, except that the description is of someone far shorter, and a boy with an aquiline nose and green eyes. About five foot eight."
Cap looked down his prow of a nose at the man. "I am offended by your assertions. We are the only people on board."
"Meaning no disrespect, but I'll have to look below, sir." The man was slightly cowed by Cap, but still plainly determined. Keilin thanked heaven that the bedding had all been dragged up and spread in the sunshine.
A few minutes later he heard them come up again. "Well, no one down there. My apologies."
Another voice. "We'd better just check they're not hidin' in a small boat over the side. Remember, like the Dumara ones."
S'kith had evolved a bizarre teaching method. He and Keilin would touch the core section. Then S'kith would do the exercise. It was an awesome way to learn. Keilin literally felt each step from his mentor's viewpoint. It had taken only hours to impart the skills taught to S'kith over years.
Keilin took that deep breath and slid down into the water. His nerves were pain-blocked, his eyes saw the world through the faint red shift of human fear-strength, his muscles ready to continue even until their own destruction. He was still unprepared for the cold assault.
He counted. He could feel the numbness creeping inwards. His hands could still feel the rope. By the bumping on his back the water flow had pulled them at least partially under the hull. He opened his eyes. He could see greenish light back there. Keilin felt at a count of 130 that he could hold out no more. His lungs were on fire. His hands were losing feeling. He couldn't swim, and if he didn't go up now, he'd drown. He began pulling for the surface. Behind him he felt S'kith do the same.
The joy to breathe again! S'kith surfaced next to him. And a low voice came over the side. "Stay in the water. They haven't gone yet." So they had to do it again. Finally someone gave the rope a couple of sharp tugs. Keilin's lungs and mind screamed conflicting messages: Go up, and, They've found the rope, let go.
Decision was abruptly taken out of his hands as the whole rope lifted. Beywulf's hairy face, red with effort, grinned down at them. "Come up, you water rats.
"
"Oh. Cap says to wait another couple of minutes. Want some soap?" With a splash he let go of the rope, and they had to pull to the surface once more.
By the time they got the all-clear, Beywulf had to pull them up, because neither could climb.
Bey chuckled at the blue, dripping, exhausted figures. "Didn't you find the hot tap? You pair of bastards, leaving me alone to face the music. You should have seen that bit of fluff of yours," he pointed an elbow at Shael, "cleaning her nails with her knife next to that prick of a steersman." He snorted. "If I'd been him I'd have been more scared of what was under the nails. Now, come below and get some dry gear and a warm brew into you."
Keilin discovered that the problem with bone-deep cold was that it took so long to warm up. The water had been perhaps five degrees and they been in it for nearly ten minutes. The core temperature of his body was down by several degrees . . . and it just wasn't coming up. He still shivered under the blankets an hour later. He also discovered the cost of bioenhancement. His body was almost too exhausted to struggle to get warm.
"Move up." Shael spoke roughly. Next thing he knew she had slipped under the blankets and squeezed into the bunk with him. Her arms went around him. "God. You're still like an ice block." He felt the life-giving warmth of her body seeping into him. She giggled suddenly. "When Bey mocks me about this—and he will, I know—I can honestly say you were frigid." Keilin barely managed a weak smile. Soon the warm drowsiness took him into sleep. She lay there for a long time cradling him in her arms while his now-peaceful face smiled up at her. She nearly bit a hole through her lip, as the realization took her. She didn't care if he protected her, was kind to her, or could be used by her. She was just glad he was still alive.
The curving Elbe took them westwards, towards debated lands. Here the wide river flowed from the lands controlled by Emperor Deshin into those still held by the Tyrant. The bargeman would go no further. The river was blockaded, and his fat tub of a vessel was not built to run, but tied up at the river quays were numerous sleek shallow-draft boats. Their only problem was to prevent the steersman howling for the authorities the minute they docked. This time it was Shael who kept Cap from cutting his throat. She simply handed Cap a bottle she'd looted from the apothecary's shop.
He smiled down at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And why would I be wanting this, my fine young lady?"
"Isn't that what you meant when you said the bargeman would have to be put to sleep?" she asked innocent and wide-eyed.
"Hmph!" He snorted at her. "You're not the little angel you pretend to be, are you, little one? Still, it's not a bad interpretation. We might want to come back this way one day."
So the unpleasant steersman snored peacefully in his smelly bed while they clumsily maneuvered his craft into the quay. Of the seven runner craft tied up at the quayside, only one was prepared to take them through enemy lines that night. Keilin misliked the feel of her crew. So, by his unease, did S'kith. Keilin had learned that the Morkth-man's psi ability manifested as premonitions of danger. S'kith admitted that he had failed to recognize them for what they were at first. It had got him caught and nearly hung. Now he acted on the hunches. Still, Cap was sure that the pursuit from Amphir was close. He insisted they move that night. Shael suspected he wasn't too concerned for Keilin's welfare, but he surely didn't intend to return the core section either.
They boarded the river runner, taking their seats between the deep banks of oars. Keilin made carefully sure that his assegai was handy. By the looks of it S'kith, too, was prepared to fight. The moon was sinking low and with muffled oars they set out into midchannel. Soon the moon was down and the river mist which forms in the early morning was closing in around them.
The skipper of the blockade runner knew his stuff. As smoothly as oiled silk they slid through the water, running down along a great sandbank midwater. They moved ghost silent past the watch boats, and then, with the muffled oars being slipped silently back into the water they sped away. The rowers hissed with relief when they were safe in no-man's-land.
Now they crept forward cautiously. It had been easy to spot the watchers on the two-mile-wide river upstream. Innocent-seeming fishing boats had pegged those during the day. But the blockade positions on the downstream side were unknown. They edged on silently, till at last the bow lookout spotted the tiny glow in the mist. It was some deck watch taking a chance and smoking a pipe, but it effectively revealed the bireme they'd been bearing straight for.
Soon they were all breathing easier and skimming towards the runner's usual quay. The mist was still thick and the darkness heavy, but the river rats knew their way well. The haloed lights of the quay should have looked welcoming in the mist. Why then did they seem so threatening?
They nosed in cautiously. The quay seemed deserted. Well, it was nearly five in the morning. The boat slid up to the dock. The skipper gave them an oily smile, which made Keilin even more wary. "Well here we are, good gentlemen and ladies. Now, the rest of my money please."
Sourly Cap handed over the gold. "If we don't get to Dublin Moss soon I'll be going broke. At least we're well and truly out of the reach of the gentlemen looking for you three."
They stepped out of the shallow draft vessel and scrambled up the ladder onto the raised dock. As soon as they were all off the boat, she pushed off. "I don't like that," said Bey. "They haven't time to paddle back up tonight."
"I don't think they wanted to be involved," said the solitary man who had been leaning against the rickety building on the dock. "We've paid them their money for delivering you, after all."
Beywulf's sword slowly came out of its sheath. "You paid for us to be delivered to you, did you? Has it occurred to you, my little cock o' whoop, that they have delivered you to me? And if anything goes wrong, you're going to die." He swung the huge sword experimentally. "I think I'll just rip your stomach open and leave you to get on with it slowly. I watched a man die like that once. He wouldn't stop screaming and trying to shove his own guts back into himself." The jagged edges of the sword gleamed in the light of the few lanterns. All of this was said with Bey's habitual humor. It didn't make it any less terrifying, especially as the hairy man took a casual swipe at a ten-inch-wide wooden bollard, and lopped its top off. The fact that the entire party was advancing on him couldn't have helped either.
Still, he spoke in a very credible attempt at a steady voice. "I am an official of the Amphir Jewel Recovery Unit. It is Amphir's policy to condemn to death, by slow immersion in hot oil, those who kill our officers pursuant on their duty. It's an awful way to die."
"He's scared, Bey," Shael said, her voice hard.
"Brave boy though," said Bey clinically. "I presume you Amphir lads have a reception committee. What do you say, Cap? Shall we go and explain that in a war zone a lot of people end up mysteriously dead. Nobody knows who killed them. Or shall we just kill him and go on and kill the rest, too?"
The Amphir Jewel Recovery Unit man could not see Cap shake his head. "Just kill him and let's get on with it," he said, bored. "These Amphir fools are too cocksure. I doubt if there are more than ten of them. And the river is deep. They won't find the bodies until the fish have eaten the faces."
"No . . . no . . . don't! You . . . you're making a big mistake. There are thirty officers. You couldn't possibly kill half of us. We . . . we just weren't expecting you this evening anymore," said the man, now no longer trying to hide his fear.
"Only thirty. We're late. I'll bet they're asleep. We hardly even need to use the girls. The boy over there walks like a ghost. Won't be the first sleeping man, or room full of men, he's slit the throat of, hey boy?" said Cap, quietly oily and evil.
Keilin did his best to look villainous and grinned, producing a long knife from his sleeve. "Go now, O master?" he asked eagerly.
"No. I think this gentleman has decided to show us the way past his friends. Then in a few miles we'll let him go . . . if he's been good," said Cap, showing his teeth to the jelly that had o
nce been the pride of Amphir's force.
They'd been so intent on terrorizing the officer that they hadn't noticed his sleepy relief coming along the pier. This man's eyes suddenly focused on the drawn swords. He screamed and ran.
"Hell's teeth. That's torn it!" swore Cap, "No, Leyla! Don't shoot. After him. We may still get past before they're up and organized." But they were too late. Already bleary-eyed crossbow-armed men were spilling onto the pier.
The river quay was a long dock running parallel to the river with three piers leading in over the muddy shallows, rather like an "E" with the long edge in the deep water. The river height obviously varied considerably, and the main dock had to be built out where it could be used at all seasons. They were on the center spline of the E leading to the shore. Keilin could hear the clatter of men running across the wooden slats in the mist.
"Well, gentlemen," Cap said calmly. "It appears we have a stand-off. Several of you are going to die before you can crank those bows, so don't even start. Leyla, drop the first man that tries."
"We have a policy to condemn—" began one man.
" Yes, we've heard. But if it comes to a fire-fight I'm going to kill you first. So it won't do you much good personally," said Cap in a matter-of-fact voice. "And with that sort of threat waiting for us, we might as well go out fighting. Even if you get lucky, at least twelve of you are not going to make it. So . . . who'll be the first to move . . . and get killed? Maybe you should try another time instead, when the odds aren't stacked against you."
There was a long silence. Keilin was just beginning to hope when the Amphirian officer Cap had interrupted shook his head. "No." His voice was hard, flat and final.
