Dryland's End

by Felice Picano

  Mart found himself smiling. Naturally, Debr’a would see it all in social terms. “Thanks for the tip,” he said, and moving past her down to the lower level, he fondled her behind.

  “No more of that!” she warned. And turned to her next victim.

  He had seen Gemma Rinne and North-Taylor Diad coming his way, and met them with, “Well, Taylor, for an old freighter captain who got himself far over his head in galactic politics, you don’t look too much the worse for wear.”

  “Considering I was almost blown out of existence,” Diad said and laughed, touching the single, almost invisible bandage on his face. “As I was telling Gemma, it wasn’t so much the shock; it was being tossed about with all of those inert MC soldiers. I feared I’d become espoused to half of them!”

  “It was terrible about Helle Lill,” Gemma said.

  “Terrible?” Diad asked. “Big-Titted Lill won the damned battle for us! Wouldn’t you say, Lord Kell?”

  “Indeed, Lord Diad, she certainly played a most crucial role. And if I have anything to say about it, Helle Lill shall be memorialized appropriately.”

  “Gratitude.” Rinne seemed genuinely pleased. “But where would – ?”

  “For the present, it will have to be somewhere here in the City,” Mart said. “But I’d be pleased if you were to help with its location and form.”

  “Apologies for correcting you, Lord Kell,” Diad began, a bit embarrassed, “but I’ve been Captain and Ambassador, but never dared even to dream that I’d allow such a great man as yourself to call me ‘Lord.’”

  “I believe, Lord Diad, you’re in for a surprise,” Mart said mischievously. “Hesperia takes its independence seriously. And your own important role in gaining that independence will be rewarded, not only honorably, but since this is a mercantile republic, I trust also munificently.”

  Diad was a bit surprised. Then he laughed. “Well, Gemma should like that. She always thought I was a Beryllium mogul. Otherwise, she probably would never have looked at me a second time.”

  “That’s not true!” Rinne protested. Mart left them arguing playfully.

  He had just caught sight of one of Vinson Todd’s “superb Pelagians” amid a group of Cityzens and wanted to get a closer look.

  The group opened up immediately to allow him in. The Pelagian native was a male who looked about the age Mart’s parents would be. He was with the former MC scientist who had argued so well earlier today. She now introduced herself as Alli Clark, and the male as her “bond-mate” (spouse, Mart supposed) ’Harles Ib’r.

  Because he wanted to get a better look and to listen better, Mart immediately pulled back to one edge of the group. The Pelagian was blond, as Ay’r Kerry Sanqq’ now was, fair-skinned, and blue-eyed. He was taller and leaner than anyone in the group, and he spoke Universal Gal. Lex. with a peculiar if not terribly pronounced accent. Naturally, all of these obvious features would set him apart anywhere in the City, as much as the Ophiucan Kells were set apart by their bronze hair and malachite eyes. But there was something else about Ib’r, his calmness, his serenity, or was it merely his stolidity? Mart couldn’t be sure.

  Alli Clark was doing most of the talking. She and ‘Harles were planning to return to Pelagia with full holo-teams. The planet’s single continent was an ecological marvel, unlike any in the galaxy, she said, truly unique, and they planned to docu.-holo it as much as possible in the remaining time. The Inner Quinx had been terribly generous financing the trip, but the Cityzens, and in fact, all the Species, would be the recipients of the holo.ed riches they brought back. ‘Harles had agreed to advise and narrate the holos, which would make them all the more authentic. She assured the group that they would be thrilled and delighted. Pelagia was an astonishing planet, its foredoomed demise a tragedy for all of them.

  The two began to answer spontaneous questions from the obviously excited listeners. Suddenly Mart felt his shoulder being tapped.

  Vinson Todd drew Mart away from the others, and turned so that Mart could see Llega Francis Todd in view over her son’s shoulder.

  “Have you heard?” Vinson asked.

  “About Wicca’s vanishing? Yes. Just before I arrived.”

  Mart’s and Llega’s eyes met across the room. She was asking him something.

  “There’s more,” Vinson said.

  “How do you mean more? Has She been caught?”

  “Perhaps you should go to my holo-chamber,” Vinson suggested, “and play back the news holo I just viewed.”

  “Has she escaped?” Mart asked.

  “It’s the chamber behind the terrarium tube.”

  Across the room, Vinson’s mother’s face was as opaque as her son’s words.

  “Are you going to answer me?” Mart said.

  “It’s an enclosed space. You can be private,” Vinson said, then was gone to greet arriving guests.

  Something truly terrible has happened, Mart thought, and of this gathering, only we three are to know it. But what could have happened?

  As Vinson Todd had said, the space was enclosed. It took Mart a minute or two of checking out the curved walls even to locate a way in. Despite that, it wasn’t very private: someone was already in the holo-chamber.

  “Apologies!” Mart said, but he didn’t withdraw.

  Two swivel chairs faced forward. In one sat another of the Pelagian natives, also male but much younger than ’Harles Ib’r, possibly related, and at least as striking in appearance. He was cradling an infant in his lap, at the same time he was watching the holo, the program sound turned down because of the sleeping infant.

  Mart immediately guessed that this was the “little tyke” Ay’r had mentioned at their meeting today. This handsome fellow must be his father. Or was he the mother, Mart wondered.

  But if Mart were able to do all of that supposing so easily, the Pelagian evidently wasn’t able to do the same about Mart. He merely stared until Mart asked, “Do you mind if I come in?”

  The Pelagian shook his head, but he followed Mart carefully with his eyes as Mart looked at the infant, tried to smile, then sat down gingerly, perhaps a meter away from them.

  “Vinson Todd,” Mart began, then explained, “our host, said he’d saved a news holo for me.”

  And when the youth still didn’t answer, “Do you mind if I ...?” He made a move toward the controls on the side of his own chair. “I’ll use an ear-comm, so I won’t awaken the child.”

  “Cas’sio,” the Pelagian said, looking away from Mart’s face and down at the infant briefly. “His name is ... Cas’sio. You ... won’t waken him now if ... it isn’t too loud.”

  He spoke with the same lilting accent as ’Harles Ib’r, and seemed almost embarrassed, flushing at the same time that he stammered.

  That reaction to Mart relaxed him a bit. He located the appropriate buttons on the side of the chair, switched off the current program, and looked for the one Vinson wanted him to see. But his concentration had been broken, and although he located the holo, he found himself fascinated by the company. He brought the holo up to the screen and left its first half second frozen there.

  The Pelagian youth had the clearest, pale skin Mart had ever seen. Yet it was flushed, too, almost pink. It looked wonderful to touch.

  “How old is he?” Mart asked.

  “Six months local time. Apologies, Ser . .. ? When you came in, I thought I knew you.”

  Mart was about to say, “Look in any PVN magazine or on any gossipnews holo,” but of course there were no such things on Pelagia, were there?

  So he introduced himself and noted that his name meant nothing to the youth, but that when he gripped the Pelagian’s forearm in standard Inter. Gal. greeting, the youth began to blush again, although he didn’t pull back his arm. Mart found himself thinking his companion as charming as he was attractive.

  “’Nton Ib’r,” the boy introduced himself.

  “And ’Harles is ...?”

  Now ’Nton pulled out of Mart’s grip. “My father. My broth
er and sister are here, too.”

  “It must be a great change for you, being here in the City. All very new and strange!” Mart added, trying to be kind.

  “Not too strange. I did have some Ed. and Dev. But, of course, I never thought” – ’Nton blushed again – “I shouldn’t have brought Cas’sio tonight, but we’ve not been separated since he was born.” He looked down and away.

  “Yes?” Mart prodded.

  “I told an untruth before,” ’Nton said and now looked at him boldly. “I know I’ve seen you before. On Pelagia. In ... I saw your face, and your hair. Zhon said no one had hair that color or eyes like ... but I saw you just as you are.”

  Young Ib’r was becoming more interesting by the second.

  “Did you?”

  “Yes ... in my mind’s eye. And when my family told me what the Truth-Sayer narrated about my future, how I would ... give birth to many sons of a great house, I knew it wasn’t Zhon that I was meant for but ...” He stopped. “Tell me, Mart Kell, are you a great prince?”

  Following all the stammering, the sudden twist in ’Nton’s speech and then the boldness of his question disconcerted Mart.

  “I suppose you might say that.”

  “Ahhh,” ’Nton said, but he didn’t explain.

  “Zhon is Cas’sio’s father?” Mart tried to change the topic.

  “Zhon Azura, yes. But we are separated. That was one reason why I came with Ay’r and P’al and my family here right away. Another reason was ... to meet you.”

  “Well, you’ve met me,” Mart said a bit too brightly. He looked away from ’Nton and at the infant and wondered what his children by a yellowhaired Pelagian would look like. The hair wouldn’t be metallic bronze, he suspected, but lighter, a flaming orange. The eyes not emerald green, but deeper, bluer, like Procyon’s ocean, perhaps, or –

  “Your holo-program,” ’Nton reminded Mart. “I’ve interrupted you.”

  Mart looked up at the tall youth. “Where are you staying in the City?”

  “We live as guests of Premier Llega Todd. Her second residence. She’s very generous.”

  “Yes, but she can afford to be. Will you remain here in the City awhile?”

  “Yes. I hope.”

  Suddenly there was another blond head, then another in the room. ’Nton’s sister and brother. Both of them as striking as their brother. And with smiles and soft laughter, they bore ’Nton and the infant away from Mart and from the holo-chamber, but not before Mart had gotten a good long look at all of them separately and interacting together.

  Once the room was empty, he didn’t move immediately to unfreeze the holo-screen but found himself wondering what life would be with such bright, fresh young faces and voices and personalities around all the time. During an Ed. & Dev. tutorial years ago, he had laughed cynically at some ancient Metro.-Terran poet who’d compared young people to flowers. Yet that was exactly how these three struck him. Exotic and handsome flowers. ’Nton Ib’r was naive, yet unafraid. Not terribly well tutored, yet sure of himself and his future. “Are you a great prince?” he had asked Mart. Given his looks and bearing, Mart might have asked the same of ’Nton.

  Vinson Todd appeared at the entry to the holo-chamber, his face an unasked question.

  Mart shrugged. “I haven’t seen it yet.” Then explained: “There were people here.”

  Vinson stepped in and unfroze the holo. It was an Inter. Gal. News report. The time on the screen – some twenty minutes ago. It opened in a network studio, a male Hume speaker repeating the story Mart had heard earlier in the comm. about Wicca’s disappearance.

  “I told you, I viewed this!” Mat said. Vinson hushed him and redirected his attention to the screen.

  “We have a new development just coming in on this matter,” the male speaker said. “We’re switching you to a live take, on girder ...? Are you there? What’s going on, Nikka?”

  A female reporter appeared outdoors, amid commercial-looking structures lit harshly by exterior holo-brights.

  “I’m at O’Kell UnLimited’s commercial Beryllium freighter dock number nine with a new and startling development in the story of Wicca Eighth’s disappearance. Only a few minutes ago Sol Rad., the security forces headquarters at O’Kell received a message via local public comm. A male who identified himself as a member of the Church of Algol told the O’Kell Security Chief that he had just revenged the death of Gn’elphus, the late Interstellar Metropolitan of the Maudlin Se’ers.”

  “What is all this?” Mart froze the holo.

  “Watch, will you?”

  “But this is at one of my own docks!”

  “I know that, Mart.”

  Vinson unfroze the holo, and Nikka went on with her report, her face becoming more somber every second.

  “The church member then gave his location at this spot and said he would remain here to be arrested.”

  A previous holo of the lanky, dark-cloaked, and cowled Se’er being taken away had been inserted.

  Mart got a glimpse of one of the craft in dock.

  “Is that a Centaur Fast?” he asked. “What’s it doing there?”

  Nikka was back on. “O’Kell Security Chief Marcz Bar’ros. What did you think when you received that comm., Chief Bar’ros?”

  The heavy set guard looked glum. “We thought he was celebrating Independence a little early. But we came to investigate anyway.”

  “And what did you find, Chief Bar’ros?”

  “Well, we found the Se’er. Just where he said he’d be. And he pointed us toward subdock nine-L. That’s when we saw the bodies.”

  “Go on, Chief Bar’ros.”

  “It was a terrible sight. The Se’er had used a Cyber-bola. That’s a rotating solid ball embedded with razors which ... well, anyway, it was a mess. Blood and brains everywhere. I was the first to notice that the male victim who had fallen on the ramp up to the Fast was a Centaur. We don’t see too many of that kind around here. Then I saw the female victim. That’s when I became more suspicious. I called City Police and asked for a team to come here and to bring a molecular of recently listed missing persons. And” – Bar’ros’s face fell even lower – “it turned out to be Her.”

  “Whom exactly, Chief Bar’ros? What is the identity of the second victim?” Nikka asked, making it play out.

  “The Matriarch. Wicca Eighth. You can see the City Police team over there now.”

  Mart Kell stood up so fast he almost knocked his chair over.

  On the holo-screen, Nikka went on probing, “You’d heard of the Matriarch’s disappearance earlier? Was that why you suspected it might be Her?”

  “Who hadn’t heard of Her disappearance? But I’ll tell you I didn’t recognize her. The clothing was typical Eudoran tourist gear, not what a Woman of Her Importance would be wearing.”

  “What made you think it might be the Matriarch?”

  “I put together what the Se’er had said about revenge and the Centaur being here, and I guessed the Matriarch might have been trying to leave the City secretly and had arranged for the Centaur to bring a Fast to meet Her here. This Se’er must have spotted Her and struck.”

  The holo now swept the death scene. Even from a distance, it was a horrible sight. All one could see of Wicca were Her robes of disguise. But the Centaur was in a more direct line, his head so awry from his body amid all the blood that it was obvious he had been nearly decapitated.

  “Stop!” Mart said. “Freeze it! Turn it off!”

  He began to walk about so blindly that he almost walked into a wall.

  “It’s true!” Vinson said. “Tedesco comm.ed mother here to confirm the molecular did belong to Wicca. The City Police have done other IDs.”

  “She was using my dock!” Mart said. “The astonishing effrontery of the witch!”

  “Tedesco said that the owner of the boutique who helped Wicca escape was probably in on it. Possibly part of the Se’er network. Wicca or someone in Her party must have approached her about helping the escape att
empt, and the conspiracy was set into operation. The boutique owner said she would arrange Wicca’s escape. The Se’er followed Wicca and did the rest,” Vinson said. “Naturally the investigation will be thorough. We’ll root out everyone connected with it and sentence them all to a full wipe.”

  “On the day before Independence –” Mart began.

  “Ironic, no? But it won’t stop the transfer of power,” Vinson said. “If anything, it will facilitate it.”

  Mart looked at him and thought how much like his mother young Todd could be at times.

  Mostly, however, Mart was trying to feel his way through life without Wicca Eighth. Without Kri’nni. Without Cray 12,000. With Independence.

  And with Hesperian influence supreme now. It really was all new, all changed, wasn’t it? The great wave had swept through and taken so many with it whom Mart had assumed were permanent – or, if not permanent, then at least longer-enduring than himself. Yet they were gone – even his greatest enemy, the Matriarch Herself, the only person he’d ever hated and respected as much as his grandfather. And in their place were ... these Ib’rs. Young, blond, long-limbed, handsome Pelagian male youths with wombs, dreaming of great princes to sire babies inside them. It was mad, yet... also perfectly appropriate, somehow.

  Mart began to laugh, and Vinson came over to him. “Now, that’s the Mart Kell I know.”

  “They were here before,” Mart said. “Three of the young Pelagians.”

  Vinson’s eyes lit up. “No wonder you were distracted. What did I tell you?”

  “Superb?” Mart asked. “Oh, they’re more than just superb, Vins. They’re beautifully strange and bewilderingly forthright and .. . they’re the future!”

  “I met them yesterday Sol Rad. at my mother’s. I’ve been fantasizing ever since,” Vinson said, guiding Mart out of the private chamber and back to the party.

  Mart wasn’t all that surprised to see Llega Todd break away from the group she had been talking to and approach him. Vinson vanished as she asked, “Well?”

  “I had nothing to do with it!” Mart said, only half joking, “even though it happened at one of my own docks.”

  “Isn’t that one of the nicest aspects of it?” She smiled. “I was having nightmares about what it would be like having Her in our midst, capable of fomenting all sorts of trouble.”