Brin, David - Glory Season

by Glory Season (mobi)

  Maia's group plunged deeper into the mountain. Since leaving the last electric light, stiltlike shadows seemed to flutter from their legs and bodies, fleeing the lanterns like animated caricatures of fear. To Maia, the effect seemed to mock the brief, earnest concerns of the living. Each time a black silhouette swept into one of the empty rooms, it was like some prodigal spirit returning to exchange greetings with shades of those long dead.

  If experience had taught Maia to endure water, and even enjoy heights, she felt certain her habituation to deep tunnels would never grow beyond grudging tolerance. She could stand them, but would never find confines like these appealing. Of late, she had begun wondering if men did, either. Perhaps they built this way because they had no other choice.

  Maia leaned toward the woman warrior she had ex-changed words with, earlier. "Uh, where are they . . . er, we ... looking for him, now?" She asked in a low voice. Her words seemed to skitter along the walls.

  "Up," the short, husky pirate replied. "Five, six levels. Found some windows lookin' over both sea an' lagoon. We're to skiv anyone comin' or goin', them's the orders. We also look for any signs the vril's been that high. Footprints in the dust, and such. Cheer up, maybe we'll get th' reward, yet."

  The ruddy-faced var leading the party glared briefly at the one talking to Maia, who grimaced a silent insult when the leader's back was turned once more.

  "What about the room where he was kept?" Maia whispered. "Any clues there?"

  A shrug. "Ask Baltha." The reaver motioned with a vague nod behind them. "She was still checkin' out the cell, after everyone else had a turn." The reaver shivered, as if unhappy to remember something weird, even frightening.

  Maia pondered as they walked on silently. Clearly, this expedition was taking her farther from any useful clues. But how to get away?

  At last, the group arrived at the end of the long hallway, where a narrow portal introduced a spiral staircase set inside a cylinder of stone. The women had to enter single file. Maia hung back, shifting from one leg to the other. When the boss woman looked at her, Maia acted embarrassed and pushed the rifles into the older woman's arms. "I have to ... you know."

  The squad leader sighed, holding a lantern. "I'll wait." Maia feigned mortification. "No. Really. Climbing's simple. No way to get lost, and there's a rail. I'll catch up before you're two levels up."

  "Mm. Well, hurry then. Fall too far behind th' lantern, and you'll deserve t'get lost."

  The leader turned away as Maia ducked into a nearby empty room. When the footsteps receded, Maia emerged and, with only a distant glow to guide her, swiftly retraced the way they had come. Could I have gotten away with holding onto a rifle? she wondered, and concluded this had been the right choice. Nothing would have been more likely to elicit suspicion and alarm. Under these circumstances, the weapon would have been a hindrance.

  Soon she arrived back at the great nexus hall and cautiously looked down. Two guards still kept watch where the string of light bulbs made a downstairs turn.

  Maia would have to get by them, and then past Baltha and Riss, in order to reach the site where Renna had been kept, and vanished. That was clearly the best place to look for clues.

  Do I dare? The plan seemed rash, more than audacious. Maybe there's another way. If all passages end in spiral stairs, there may be one at the far end of the south hall—

  Sounds of commotion reached her ears. Maia crouched next to the stone banister and watched as women converged on the guard post from two directions. Climbing from below came Baltha, Riss, and two tall vars, one carrying an air of authority to match Baltha's. At the landing, the foursome turned and looked west, toward the sanctuary entrance, where a single figure appeared, a slender shadow marching before her. Maia felt a numb frisson when she recognized the silhouette.

  "You sent for me, Togay?" the newcomer asked the tallest reaver, whose strong-boned features stood out in the harsh light.

  "Yes, Leie," the commanding presence said in an educated, Caria City accent. "I am afraid it's out of my hands, now. You are to be kept under confinement until the alien is found, and thereafter till we sail."

  Maia's sister had her face turned away from the light. Still, her shock and upset were plain. "But Togay, I explained—"

  "I know. I told them you're among our brightest, hardest working young mates. But since the events on Grimke, and especially tonight—"

  "It's not my fault Maia escaped! Isn't it enough she died for it? As for the prisoner, he just disappeared! I wasn't anywhere near—"

  Baltha's companion cut in. "You was seen talkin' to the Outsider, just like your sister!" Riss turned to Togay and made a chopping motion. "Like seeks as seeks like. Ain't that what they say? You may be right 'bout her bein' no clone, an' I guess she don't smell like a cop. But what if she wants revenge for her twin? Remember how she was against us tuckin' in Cojsh an' his boys? I say drop her in the lagoon, just to be safe."

  “Togay!" Leie cried imploringly. But the tall, strong-jawed woman looked at her sternly and shook her head. With an expression of satisfaction, Baltha motioned at the two guards, who stepped alongside the fiver and took her elbows. Leie's shoulders slumped as she was led away. All seven women descended the southward set of stairs, leaving behind a dusty, silent emptiness.

  Creeping as quietly as possible, wary of the betraying reach of shadows, Maia followed.

  A single electric cable continued down to the lower level, bulbs spaced far apart. Maia let the reavers and their captive get some distance ahead before hurrying after in short bursts, ducking into dark doorways whenever any of the women seemed to even hint at turning around. After they passed into a side corridor, she sped at a dead run, stopping at the edge to cautiously peer around.

  The group halted at the first of several metal-bound doors, where stood another pair of guards. This time, one of them was armed with a vicious-looking firearm, the likes of which Maia had seen only once before in her life. This was no hunting rifle, being misused in pursuit of human beings. Rather, it was an automatic killing machine, built for spraying death in mass doses.

  There was low conversation, a rattling of keys. As the door flung open, Maia glimpsed figures within, stirring in surprise. Her sister was shoved through. A reaver laughed. "Be nice to yer new friends, virgie. Maybe you can shuck your nickname b'fore drownin' with 'em!"

  "Shut up, Riss," Baltha said, while Togay locked the door. Then, all except for the second pair of guards, they filed twenty meters or so down the hall, into the chamber next door. From an angle, Maia saw ranks of benches lining one wall of the room. Baltha and the others could be glimpsed walking around inside, frustration evident on their faces each time they reappeared in view. Shouts of anger and recrimination could be heard. One time, Baltha's voice rang out loud enough for Maia to make out clearly, "Back in the city aren't gonna be happy about this. Not happy t'all! ..."

  Maia was concentrating so hard, she only noticed the sound of footsteps after they echoed behind her for some time. Her hackles shot up when she realized, turning around quickly, ready to run. A single form could be seen approaching, entering and leaving succeeding pools of light. It soon manifested as a heavyset woman with a pocked complexion, whose reddish hair was bound by a like-colored bandanna. She carried a bucket in each hand, and wore a broad grin along with a stained apron. The smile kept Maia stationary, frozen with indecision.

  "Zooks, you don't haveta perch so close, ya little query-bird. I could hear 'em arguin' all th' way to the main hall! What're they up to now? Found their man o' smoke, yet? Or do they plan t'keep us up all night, lookin'?"

  Maia forced a smile. Pretending to be her sister would work only until word of Leie's arrest spread ... a matter of minutes, at best.

  "All night it is, I'm afraid," she answered with what she hoped was the right note of blithe resignation. "What's in the buckets?"

  The reaver shrugged as she drew near and set the pails down with a sigh. "Supper for th' vrils. Late 'cause of the excitem
ent. Some say what's the point, given the luck planned for 'em. But I say, even a man oughta get fed 'fore joinin' Lysos."

  Maia's nostrils flared. Time was even shorter than she had thought. As soon as the scullery drudge entered the prison cell and saw Leie, all would be lost.

  "I know why yer here," the older woman confided, moving a little closer.

  "Oh yes?" Maia's hand crept toward her belt.

  A wink. "You're, hopin' for clues. Peep on th' boss women, then off quick, after the reward!" The middle-aged var laughed. "S'okay. I was a younger, too—full o' frosty notions. Ye'll get yer clanhold yet, summer-child."

  Maia nodded. "I . . . think I already found a clue. One all the others missed."

  "S'truth?" The scullery wench leaned forward, eyes glittering. "What is it?"

  "It'll take two of us to lift it," Maia confided. "Come, I'll show you."

  She gestured toward the nearest dark doorway, motioning the bluff, eager woman ahead. As she followed, Maia's right hand slipped the cudgel from her waistband and brought it high.

  Afterward, despite all her valid reasons for acting, she still felt guilty and mean.

  The dim room wasn't quite empty or devoid of hints at its past life. Bare rock shelves and flinders of ancient wood planking testified that once upon a time, a substantial library might have stood here. Except for curled bits of former leather bindings, all that remained of the books was dust. After dragging the cook's unconscious body inside, and hurriedly fetching the buckets, Maia swapped coats and borrowed her victim's bandanna, which she tied low, almost over her eyes. She finished in time to hear muttering voices and footsteps approach. From the shadows, Maia counted figures moving past, back toward the foyer of stairs. Six women, still arguing. From close range, Maia glimpsed seething anger in Baltha's eyes.

  "... won't be happy to get nothin' out o' this but a little box full of alien shit. Some bugs taken from an outsider's vrilly gut may help knock down a clan or two, but we needed a political deal too, for protection! Without his tech-stuff, it won't matter how many smuggy clones die . . ."

  Their voices faded. Still, Maia forced herself to wait, though she knew there was little time left. Soon, the first group—that had found her aboard the Manitou—would report "Leie" missing. That would set folk wondering how a fiver could manage to be two places at the same time.

  With a pounding heart, Maia pulled the bandanna down further, picked up the food pails, and stepped out of the dim room. She approached the corner, turned, and made herself shuffle at a droopy, desultory pace toward the two burly vars guarding the sealed door. Trying to calm her frantic pulse, Maia reminded herself that she had one advantage. The wardens had no reason to expect danger in the form of a woman. Moreover, her arrival so soon after the leaders' departure implied she must have passed them on the way here. That, too, should reduce vigilance.

  Nevertheless, she heard a wary click, and glimpsed the warrior with the automatic weapon lift it in the sort of tender but firm embrace women usually reserved for their own babes. Maia had only heard rumors of such mass-killing machines, until she was four, when she had first learned how much lay hidden in the world.

  Unbeckoned—a brief, recollected image of a stone portal, grinding open at long last to reveal what the Lamai mothers and sisters wanted no one else to see. In light of so many things Maia had witnessed since, what had seemed so awful on that day had been, in fact, dreary, mundane. The irony was enough to make one laugh. Or cry.

  Maia had no time or concentration to spare for either. She trudged forward, keeping her head down, and in a low voice muttered, "Grubb stuff for th' vrils."

  Laughter from the one cradling the gun. "Why're we still botherin'?"

  Maia shrugged, rocking from side to side, as if in fatigue. "Why ask me? Just lemme get rid o' the stink."

  The second guard laid her trepp bill across one shoulder, and with her free hand took up jingling keys. "I dunno," she commented. "Seems a shame to waste all these boys. There oughta be frost, sometime soon. We can pass it 'round, then make a big, pretty fire . . ."

  "Oh, shut up, Glinn," the guard with the assault rifle said, as she positioned herself behind and to Maia's left, ready to spread fire at anyone who tried breaking out. "You'll just get yourself all worked up and—"

  Maia had been rocking in anticipation. As the door pushed open, she took a step, then swung the righthand pail in an arc, passing in front of her and then toward the guard with the gun. The riflewoman's eyes barely registered surprise before it drove into her gut, doubling her over without a sound. One down! Maia thought elatedly.

  And prematurely. The tough reaver, stunned and unable to breathe, nonetheless steadied on one knee and fought to bring her weapon toward Maia . . . only to topple when the second pail clipped the back of her head with a deep clunking sound.

  Maia accelerated her return swing, releasing the bucket to fly toward the second guard. The second warrior was already swiveling, lifting her trepp bill. With the agile grace of a trained soldier, she dodged Maia's hurled pail, which struck the door, spewing brown glop like a fountain. Maia charged, taking a glancing blow to her shoulder before plowing into the pirate's midriff and driving both of them into the room.

  Second by stretched second, the fight was a blur of continuous buffets in which her own blows seemed ineffective, while her opponent was expert. Desperately, Maia grappled close but was soon thrown back, giving the reaver room to swing her trepp. Dazzles of exquisite pain swept Maia's left side. Another lancing coup ripped just below her knee.

  Dimly, Maia was aware of figures nearby. Haggard men clutched outward, reaching to help, but were bound by chains to rows of benches lining the sloping walls. Meanwhile, the pirate's hot breath seared Maia's face with onion pungency, spraying her with spittle as they wrestled over the trepp. I can't hold on, she realized despairingly.

  Suddenly, another set of hands appeared out of nowhere, wrapping around the reaver's throat. With a howl, Maia's foe flung her away. The sharp bill barely missed in a frenzied swing, then flew off as the bandit let go to claw at her new assailant, a much smaller woman who clung to her back like a wild cat. Though her drained body tried to refuse, Maia forced one final effort. Sobbing with fatigue, she launched herself forward, and in a series of fierce yanks, she and her ally finally brought the thrashing, heaving guard within reach of Captain Poulandres and his men.

  When it was over, they lay together on the ground, wheezing. Finally, Maia's sister took her hand and squeezed.

  "Okay . . ." Leie said between gasps, the expression on her face more contrite than Maia had seen in all their years growing up together. "... I guess my plan didn't . . . work so good. Let's hear yours."

  The nearby corner from which Maia had spied on Baltha and Togay would prove a handy enfilade looking the other way. Still, at first Poulandres was reluctant. He and his men were brave, angry, and fully aware of their fate should they be recaptured. Yet not one of them wanted to touch the automatic rifle.

  "Look, it's simple enough. I've seen the type before. You just slide this lever"

  "I can see how it operates," Poulandres snapped. Then he shook his head and lifted a hand placatingly. "Look, I'm grateful. . . . We'll help any way we can. But can't one of you two operate the thing?" Revolted, he looked away from the metal machine.

  Before she had met Renna, Maia might have reacted differently to this display—with incomprehension, or contempt. Now she knew how patterns established by Lysos had been reinforced over thousands of years, partly through myth and conditioning, as well as deep within their genes and viscera, all so that men would tend to loathe violence against women.

  Still, humans are flexible beings. The warrior essence wasn't excised, only suppressed, patterned, controlled. It would take strong motivation to persuade a decent man like Poulandres to kill, but Maia had no doubt it could be done.

  Nearby, the rest of the male crew rubbed their ankles, where chains had bound them to rank after rank of stone benches, a
rrayed in a bowl-shaped, enclosed arena. Three groggy, half-conscious women now languished in their place, mouths gagged. A few of the men were picking distastefully at one of the spilled buckets. Someone ought to get to work conserving the stuff, Maia thought. They might be in for a long seige.

  Other matters came first. "I haven't time for this," she told Leie. "You explain it to him. And don't forget to look for other stairs leading to this level! We don't want to be flanked."

  "All right, Maia," Leie answered, acquiescent. There hadn't been time for more than a moment of reunion, while recovering from the fight. Nor was Maia ready for complete reconciliation. Too much had happened since that long-ago storm separated a pair of dreamy-eyed summer kids. In time, she might consider trusting Leie again, providing her sister earned it.

  Gingerly toting the horrible firearm, Leie escorted Poulandres and several crewmen down the hall. Maia, too, had an errand. But as she started to go, she was halted by a curt tug at her leg.