The Omcri Matrix

by Deborah Chester

  She threw herself at the wall, knowing better than to try for the exit. The torchlight stabbed around her, trying to hold steady as she snarled and fired again. It wavered wildly, and there were more shouts, closer this time. She sprang straight up, hands clawing at the wall to find minute fingerholds. She kept going, mindlessly now, going up by sheer impetus until one outflung hand reached the top. Her fingers curled around the edge with a strength that was incredible. She grunted as a bolt of energy struck her in the back, and for a moment it felt as though her shoulder blade had been melted.

  But it was only stun, she realized, and something faint within her laughed. In mere moments her nerves would jam, and she would be clinging here helplessly for them to climb up and pluck off.

  Only the stun wasn’t working. She was still moving, still forcing herself up in a last savage squirm that got her stomach across the top. She swung her legs over and let herself drop straight down, scraping her face along the wall. The impact as she landed jarred her to the top of her head. She heard herself cry out as she staggered and fell. Her legs should have been shattered, but they weren’t. She scrambled through the mud until she regained her feet, and then she was racing on, hidden by the rain-tossed night from the men cursing behind her, aiming herself unerringly toward her masters.

  Chapter Ten

  Tith paced restlessly back and forth along the narrow confines of the balcony, growling to himself, and pausing only to glare out at the magnificent view of a bronze-ball sun sinking into the white-capped sea, tossing beneath approaching black thunderheads.

  Silta…Silta…

  The word drove him mad, spinning around and around inside his brain until he could not even think let alone concentrate upon the lessons Unru Del had assigned to him. That strange, thin human with the blood on his clothes had sundered him and put this word into his brain, worse, into the sending lobe of his brain, where no such thing was permitted. Besides, he now had two of the blue years as well as seven of the standard, and he was too old to be sundered by an adult.

  Unru Del was not even speaking to him after his shameful behavior this morning. He had made an assignment of thirty verbs, sniffed, locked the room, and left. While Tith was glad to be rid of his tutor, he did not wish to be alone when his head throbbed like this. He wanted Unru Del to take the word out, but he did not dare ask. Unru Del would probably refuse to believe him and accuse him of trying to shirk his lessons. And Unru Del was not of his line, being of no sibilants. By rights, only Tith’s father had the authority to sunder him after the matriarch herself, but this was an emergency. Surely his father would understand.

  Silta…

  The sound of the door opening made him whirl around and run into the suite. He bounded up to Unru Del, who held out a hand before he could speak.

  “What means this?” Unru Del’s narrow green eyes, slits of perpetual suspicion about whatever a young nib might be up to, moved at once to the table, where the triangular computer screen shimmered blankly. “Nothing you have done! You dare disobey again! For this you—”

  “Please, Unru Del!” cried Tith. He butted his head against the tutor’s paunch, wrinkling his nostrils at the unpleasant odors of meat grease and scincipi herb clinging to Unru Del’s fur. At the moment it did not matter how much he disliked Unru Del. He needed someone to comfort him. He needed an adult to take charge. His stubby hands clung to the tutor’s clenched one. “My head hurts. The—”

  “A likely excuse.” Sniffing, Unru Del pushed him firmly away. “Stand erect. Wicked has your behavior been, ever since permission your glorious matriarch gave to come to this planet. Will you come again? Unlikely.”

  “Nothing do I care for that,” said Tith, his voice roughened with misery. Why wouldn’t Unru Del listen to him? Why did Unru Del hate him so much? “Please. The truth I tell you. My head has…the human sundered me.”

  “What?” His attention caught at last, Unru Del bowed his head to peer at Tith more closely. One side of his upper lip had caught on a prominent side tooth, which gleamed whitely as he leaned down.

  For a moment the tutor looked as fierce and bloodthirsty as Uncle Simmsa, who had turned pirate and was not permitted to be mentioned within the family fire circle. With his sparse, balding fur, hollow face, and glowing green eyes, Unru Del was suddenly frightening as he grabbed Tith by the shoulder. Tith squirmed, wishing he had never spoken, wishing he had been braver, wishing he dared kick Unru Del and run away, but the tutor’s fingers dug in with a hint of claw and Tith could not free himself.

  “Lies you speak!”

  “No! The human! Strange you said he was! He did it. And now this word will not leave me.”

  “What word?”

  “Silta.” Tith heard his voice quiver and despised himself for betraying how near he was to crying aloud. Why must Unru Del get so angry? It was as though he blamed Tith for this, and it wasn’t fair.

  “A name,” said Unru Del as though disappointed. “Well, hurt you it will not. Put thought of it aside and go to your lessons.”

  “Sent it is to be,” said Tith, staring up at Unru Del with anguish. “And how I do not know.”

  “As is well you do not!” said Unru Del in alarm. “Were the honored matriarch of your line to know you are sending, ended my life would be.” He shuddered and released Tith to fumble in his pouch for a roll of scincipi herb.

  The acrid smell made Tith want to retch. He stared at Unru Del, waiting while the silence stretched out interminably, and finally realized as Unru Del went on nervously rubbing the herb roll across his mouth and chin that the tutor was not thinking about him at all.

  Angrily Tith stamped his foot. “Permission you have to sunder me and remove the word.”

  “Remove?” With a start, Unru Del dropped the herb roll. He looked at Tith with alarm. “Foolish you are. I dare not!”

  “You must!” Tith began to pace around the room, angrily kicking a plush hassock out of his way. “More I cannot stand! Take it out!”

  “And I tell you I dare not! I have not the power!”

  Tith stumbled to a halt, shocked.

  Unru Del grimaced in a bitter snarl. “Now, little princeling, you understand that privileged all are not. Your glorious matriarch has no fear that tampered with you will be. To send, I can not; to receive, I can not. Now sneer at me if you dare!”

  Tith blinked at him, frightened once again by the blast of hatred emanating from the tutor. He shook his head and with miserably flattened ears, said, “Someone must help me. Find them. Now!”

  “Permitted it is not. My duty I know well.” He narrowed his eyes to slits and peered thoughtfully at Tith, who barely stifled a howl. “Perhaps the vertu lock—”

  “No!” Panic arrowed through Tith. He stumbled back in horror, staring at Unru Del with widened eyes.

  “Yes. It was given to me for chance of trouble.” Unru Del lifted his chin and sniffed. “Come here!”

  His voice rang with authority. Tith quivered, conditioned to obey those in charge of him, yet somehow he held his ground. He would not be tortured by that thing! He had done nothing wrong.

  “No! Unfair you are!”

  “Tith, fear not. For punishment it will not be. The headache it will ease. Come.”

  The hard gleam in those green eyes belied the softness in the voice. Unru Del started toward Tith, one hand outstretched, his ragged ears slightly flattened.

  Tith’s heart hammered within his chest. “For this my father will kill you!”

  Unru Del bared his teeth. “Your father is far away. Ambassadors to Terra rarely come home before their term is finished. For years you will not see him. By then today will not matter. A lesson in obedience is what you need. Tith! Come here!”

  But Tith was already running. He dodged Unru Del’s grab at him, and heard the old tutor grunt with the effort. Without looking back, Tith flattened his ears tightly to his skull and threw himself at the door, activating it and hurtling down the corridor to the lift. The doors closed on Unru Del
’s roar of fury, and with a sob of relief, Tith crouched down on the floor, quivering all over and terrified that when he reached the ground he would find Unru Del waiting for him.

  He cried out as the doors slid silently open, but Unru Del was not standing in the midst of richly dressed guests waiting for the lift. Gasping in a breath as a woman murmured something and reached out to him, Tith threw himself forward, his stubby, powerful legs churning as he forced a path through the block of adults. With indulgent laughter they let him pass, and then he was racing like the wind through the silver- and gold-hung lobby, darting past the spun-glass sculptures, spinning holographs of sea globes, and other island wonders. The glass doors were ahead of him, huge and vast and clear. He could see right through them to the courtyard and lytcar pad outside. Beyond them lay safety. Unru Del would never find him again. He could run and he could bite and he could hide. He would find the communications center and call his father, and then he would be free at last of that horrible old thing!

  A shout came from behind him. Tith’s heart leapt in a violent bound. He heard something behind him and felt the rush of air as arms made a grab. The doors were just ahead, but they weren’t opening. He was running too fast; the activator wasn’t going to have enough time to sense him and open them. He was going to crash and be stopped and caught and hauled back to Unru Del, who would put the vertu lock on him. Then he would be totally at the tutor’s mercy, unable to act on his own, unable to even move without a direct command. Unru Del would torture him. Oh, please, please open!

  They did, rolling back a split second before he reached them. He sobbed in relief, ducking his head and plunging on into the close, muggy air of dusk and welcome shadows, feeling the whisper of clutching fingers brushing the fur of his shoulder, terrified of how close he had come to capture. Someone shouted again, but the doorman in his brilliant uniform merely stood rooted in amazement as Tith flashed past him, understanding too late the frantic shouts of pursuit. He blew his alarm, making Tith’s ears ring, but a slim young man slammed the hatch of his lytcar at that moment, cutting off the shrill sound of warning. Tith made it across the narrow courtyard and out into the heavily trafficked street before anyone else had the presence of mind to activate the sonic gates.

  Like a whirlwind, Tith dodged and darted across the street, escaping being run down by sheer luck. Then he was around the corner and into the darkness of an alley off the brightly lit Central Street. He fell to his knees with a gasp, his breath gone and his heart hammering so hard against his ribs his whole chest ached with pain. Only then, as thunder broke open the sky and rain began to pour down with crashing force, did he curl himself into a tight ball and cry.

  The rain beat down steadily until he was drenched and shaking with cold. His ears ached from being held so tightly flattened to his skull, and his fur was matted to his skin. Water puddled under him in a broadening lake until the entire alley became a stream of mud. The drumming rain muted the sounds of traffic on Central Street, and somewhere in the darkness at the end of the alley a piece of canvas awning flapped in the wind.

  Tith lifted his head, squinting against the lash of rain in his face. The throbbing at his temples was worse. He lifted a hand to rub his forehead and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He had to go to the communications center before Unru Del thought of looking for him there.

  He remembered the way, of course. Nothing was difficult to find on Lilliput. But he kept cautiously to the shadows as he splashed a miserable way up the street. Few people were out now; most had taken shelter under awninged doorways or had gone inside altogether. Those who were hastening along had their heads tucked down and spared no glance of curiosity for one small nib obviously out where he should not be, without proper supervision.

  Tith had never gone anywhere without escort before, and with every step he felt smaller, more alone and increasingly frightened. He thought of all the tales he had been told in the nursery of wicked nibs who had run away and were assassinated when they were beyond the reach of their loyal guards. It seemed to take forever to reach the communications center. He had to resolutely go past several restaurants with enticing smells and lights shining warmly out into the darkness, but when at last he got to the entrance of the low rambling stone building and began with relief to think himself very brave, he found the doors locked and the center closed.

  “No!” he shouted, pounding on the glass. “No! No! No!”

  But no one responded, not even a duty drone. Tith turned away, unable to understand it. He had distinctly overheard a guest in the hotel lobby asking for the hours. The center should be open.

  Silta…Silta…

  “Leave me alone!” he shouted, gripping his head. “To send I am not allowed!”

  Wearily he sat down in the shelter of the entrance overhang, for the moment not caring that the tiny glowlight there illuminated him. “Oh, Perre,” he said with a sigh, wishing with all his heart for his father, “why so far away are you?”

  Sneezing, he rested his narrow chin in his hands, remembering the day of his father’s departure. To be the ambassador to Terra was a great honor, and all Zethia had gathered to give respect to the matriarch of the Zauran line. Tith, as a nib of the third birthing of the second daughter of the matriarch, was considered too young to attend with his older mates, so he could only watch from afar the rare sight of his perre and matre seated with the matriarch herself. His young heart thrilled at Perre’s magnificent auburn mane worn long and full to the shoulders and the star of Zethia glittering on his chest. Someday, as the chamberlain kept repeating to Tith and the awed little nursery nibs, each of them would be old enough and trained enough to receive the privilege of meeting the adults of their noble line, and providing they were found worthy, they could then be permitted the acquaintanceship of their perre and matre.

  Would Perre consider him worthy if he knew Tith were sitting here sniveling in the rain? Was that the way a Zauran noble male dealt with his problems?

  Tith could imagine the stinging rebuke, and he sniffed in deep shame. There was no one to help him, at least not now. And his head hurt so much he longed to beat it against the wall. He did not think he could wait until morning for the center to open. By then, Unru Del might have caught him again. No, he must do something right now.

  He must find the human who had done this cruelty to him and make him take the word away.

  With a growl, Tith stood up only to sigh in despair. Where should he look? There were thousands of humans on the island. And he was so cold, wet, and hungry. For a moment the thought of food nearly drove him back into the main part of the village. But he had no money, and he did not know the account number Unru Del used for their transactions. If he went into any place, he would be immediately questioned about the lack of an adult supervisor and turned over to Unru Del. Tith shuddered and turned his back on Central Street.

  He dared not risk being caught. And instinct told him the human had not wanted to be caught either. The human had been very strange with his bloodied clothing and intense blue eyes. He had used Tith to get on board the transport. Tith growled again, resentful and angry now of an adventure which had turned into painful misery. He did not think the human would be found in any of the restaurants or casinos or shows. No, the human would be somewhere in the darkness beyond the village. Tith did not want to go out there looking for him, but in spite of the fear that turned him cold inside, he knew he had no choice.

  Reluctantly, with his shoulders hunched up, he started walking, making himself go very fast in order not to think about what he was doing. He told himself his perre would not be afraid; neither, for that matter, would his matre. How many stories they had been told in the nursery of her hunting prowess! For a moment it was possible to hold up his head with pride and think of how good it was to be brave. But as he passed the last of the lights and stumbled off the pavement onto a muddy track, Tith’s heart sank and he began to walk more and more slowly.

  Within minutes, as the wind shrieked
and buffeted him, stinging his eyes with needle-sharp rain, he had lost all sense of direction. Even the lights of the village were gone, dimmed to nothing by the violence of the storm. Intermittently, whenever the wind paused for a moment, he could hear the booming crash of the sea. Listening to it, he stumbled into something elastic and intangible which hummed as he fell against it.

  Tith screamed, aware that he had fallen against a force barrier, and flailed his arms in a panic, trying to get away before it fried him out of existence. But he had already lost his balance and was falling forward through the barrier, which sang and crackled and spat all around him, stinging him viciously as though thousands of red-hot needles jabbed him all at once. He screamed again, then choked as he landed face down on the ground with cold, metallic-tasting mud filling his mouth.

  Spluttering, he jerked himself upright and spat and spat, trying to get the mud out. Then he ran his hands down his body in wonder, dazed at the thought of his survival. The rain must have weakened the signal, he thought, and hastily made obeisance to Basa.

  Silta…

  “Leave me alone!” Angrily he began to run, weaving along as his stumbling feet took him uphill. He tripped and fell flat again, knocking the wind from his lungs. For a long while he lay there, sobbing and retching. His head hurt worse, as though the farther he went the more insistent the command became. Or else, someone was using mind control nearby, and the backlash of it was intensifying his own problem.

  He pushed himself up, thoroughly frightened now as he recognized yet another danger of being alone and unprotected. Unru Del was supposed to keep him safe from anyone skilled in telepathy. But Unru Del had not kept him safe from the human this morning; Unru Del had not even realized what was happening.

  Tith’s flattened ears suddenly sprang up in alarm. Someone was coming his way. He could hear the squishing plops of feet running through mud. Tith’s heart squeezed within him. He must hide!

  A body, moving fast, plowed into him and knocked him off his feet. It fell on top of him, making him cry out as he was crushed flat. It grunted and cursed loudly, pushing him aside.