Jimmy closed his eyes. His father came to Zenith to help him find his family, even knowing that it might kill him. And how had Jimmy responded to his father? Dismissively. He’d been almost abrasive.
“What can I do?” Jimmy asked hoarsely.
“Talk to him. Convince him to leave and travel to Mullanur. They have the experience with this, and maybe they have treatments we don’t know about, or at least something experimental they can try. I’m afraid he’s already waited too long, but he refused to leave again until your family was found,” Lev explained quietly. “He won’t listen to me, but he might listen to you.”
“Is he contagious?” Jimmy asked fearfully. He hated himself for worrying about that when his father was dying, but the thought of catching a parasite that would affect him like this . . . he just couldn’t stomach it.
“No. The parasites are transmitted through bites by the Mullanur sand midge, and we don’t have any of them here. You should be fine.”
Jimmy nodded. “All right then. You want me to talk to him now?”
“Yes,” Lev said. He moved to the door on the far wall and knocked softly. After only a moment, it slid open. Nelson, his father’s personal bodyguard, stood in the doorway.
“Mr. James,” Nelson greeted stiffly.
Jimmy nodded awkwardly in return. The last time he had seen Nelson was on Terra—when Nelson had prevented Jimmy from punching his father in the face. It hadn’t exactly been a touching farewell scene.
“Is my father awake?” he asked.
“No, but he asked to be awakened when you arrived,” Nelson said. He stood back, allowing Jimmy to enter the room, then moved to the wall. He didn’t leave the room, but Lev stayed outside, clearly trying to give him some privacy with his father. If it could be called privacy with a bodyguard looming over you.
Jimmy moved to the side of the bed. His father was wearing a respirator of some kind, and a machine beeped alongside him, presumably tracking his vitals. Jimmy knelt down next to the bed and put his hand on his father’s arm.
“Father?” he said. When he got no response, he raised his voice. “Father, it’s Jimmy—James,” he added, correcting himself. His father hated “Jimmy.” Probably why Jimmy had preferred the nickname all his life. “Father?” he tried again, this time shaking his arm gently. His father’s eyes fluttered open, and his head creaked in Jimmy’s direction.
“J-James,” he whispered hoarsely. He sounded like every breath cost him enormous effort.
“Hey. I made it. Thanks for chartering the ship for me,” Jimmy began helplessly. His eyes roved over his father’s prone body. How could he have lost weight that quickly? He looked like a shriveled version of his former self.
“Beryl? Erik?” his father murmured.
“We haven’t found them yet. Mr. Quintan is still searching,” Jimmy replied, carefully keeping his tone neutral.
His father’s eyes sharpened just a bit, and his fingers fluttered. Jimmy took his father’s left hand in both of his, and his father squeezed his fingers.
“You must . . . trust . . . Lev . . . Quintan,” his father gasped.
“But why?” Jimmy protested. “I know you believe in him, but I can’t. Father, just because Mr. Quintan is on your side doesn’t mean he’s on mine.”
“Trust . . . him,” his father reiterated. Jimmy nodded reluctantly. It wasn’t a promise, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
Jimmy decided to jump straight to the heart of the matter. “Father, you need to go to Mullanur. You need to leave right now and get treated.”
“No . . . wait . . .”
“You can’t wait. I don’t know how long it will take to find my family. But you don’t have any time.”
His father nodded weakly. “I . . . know. Just . . . want . . . grandchildren . . . say I . . . love them.” His eyes fluttered closed.
Nelson moved forward and checked the flashing panel. “He’s asleep again,” he said. “He gets exhausted quickly now. Respiratory failure from the lung infection.”
“Nelson, can’t we just put him on a ship to Mullanur? How is he going to stop us?” Jimmy asked.
Nelson stared at him, his eyes thoughtful. “Your father trusts me. I have served him for years, and I have never once questioned or countered one of his direct orders.” Jimmy knew this, of course. His father would never retain a bodyguard who needed explanations or would disobey his father’s requests, let alone his commands. “He made me promise that I would not take him off-planet until he had seen your children safely returned.”
Jimmy opened his mouth to argue and then thought better of it. He studied the bodyguard appraisingly. The promise had to be galling him. Nelson’s job was to keep his father alive and well, not preside over his deathbed. How hard would he fight if they took his father by force?
When Jimmy let himself out of the room, Nelson stayed behind—the ever-vigilant guard. It would be tough to go around him, especially without Nelson—or anyone else—getting hurt. Still, if Lev was willing to help . . .
“I’ll be back in about an hour,” Jimmy explained over his shoulder. “I just need to check on how the search is going.” Among other things, he added silently.
An hour later, he knocked on the door again and then stood out of the way. The twelve Quintan Security officers rushed in, nonlethal weapons at the ready. Nelson didn’t even put up much of a fight. He grappled with two of them while a third used a trank injector on him. Within minutes, Nelson was sagging to the floor, the officers staggering under his weight. Not one officer had so much as a bruise, and Nelson hadn’t even bothered to unholster a weapon. Jimmy had been right. Keeping his father on Zenith was not what Nelson wanted either.
“How much of a dose did you give him?” Lev asked, walking into the room with the medtechs and the doctor.
“Enough to knock him out for about an hour, at most,” the officer reported.
“Good.” Lev turned to the medtechs. “Make sure Nelson is put in the same room as Mr. Forrest. He will want to know where his charge is the minute he wakes up.” They nodded, and two moved the hovering gurney into position. The security officers hefted Nelson onto it, then guided him out of the room. Jimmy moved to his father’s side again. The doctor was studying the vitals on the screen.
“He’s not in great shape for an interstellar jaunt,” warned the doctor. “And the gate is going to deactivate the new immuno-nanobots. Mr. Forrest will be sicker than ever by the time he arrives in Mullanur. I’ll have an injection ready that they need to give him on the ship as soon as they come through the gate on the Mullanur side.”
“I sent a deep-space comm yesterday. They will be ready to treat him immediately when he makes it there,” Lev said. Jimmy raised his eyebrows. Lev had intended to do this no matter what. Maybe he had hoped to give one last chance for his father to agree willingly if Jimmy asked.
When the medtechs carefully shifted his father to the gurney, his father’s eyes jerked open. Jimmy took his father’s hand.
“What’s . . . happening?” he said.
Jimmy had to bend over to hear his breathless words. “You’re going to Mullanur,” Jimmy answered cheerfully.
“No,” protested his father weakly.
“Too late. Your rebellious son never listens to you, remember? Besides, we’re going to find my family, and when you’re well again, I will bring them to see you. You will get to see your grandchildren,” Jimmy added firmly. “You just have to get better first.”
His father closed his eyes again, though Jimmy wasn’t sure if it was in frustration or exhaustion.
“I love you, Father,” Jimmy said. The answering pressure on his hand was light but distinct.
38. Kendra’s Trial
Jenna stared warily into the pit. It was a hole dug deeply into the forest floor, the walls lined with jointed stones that were slick with s
limy algae. In the center of the pit stood a rickety platform set on four spindly-looking supports that raised it only perhaps a meter off the muddy bottom. Near the bottom she could see five holes in the walls, spots where there were no stones. They were dark empty holes, tunnels too small for a child to wriggle through, but large enough for many of the creatures that lived in the forest. Jenna swallowed and looked down at her daughter. Kendra was staring down into the pit blankly. She cocked her head to one side, listening to that voice that no one else could hear.
Would that being . . . the isithunzi . . . be able to protect her?
Jenna wouldn’t be able to.
Vanda, the spokeswoman from the Council, stepped beside them. “We will lower the ladder so that Kendra can climb down into the pit. Then from there, she will have to climb up the rungs of the platform. Can you do that, child?”
Kendra’s eyes refocused, and she turned her face up to Vanda. “Yes,” she said nervously. Jenna swallowed again, her throat dry.
“You must be careful, and you must be quick,” Vanda instructed. “The platform will wobble. If you are indeed Shadowed by The Planet, the roaches may swarm into the pit right away. The platform is your safety.”
Kendra nodded with wide eyes, slipping her hand into Jenna’s. After Lenata had disappeared from the assembly hut with her dead-eyed husband, the Council had deliberated for only a few minutes before determining that Kendra would face the Trial. Jenna had heard the heavy emphasis they gave the word. It was something significant—as soon as the decision was announced, the whispers and the mutters in the assembly room swelled into loud, animated conversation. They barely noticed when Vanda dismissed them, most still staying in place and discussing it with their neighbors while periodically looking over to stare at Kendra. Vanda had escorted them through the crowd, and heads turned to follow their progress until they left the assembly room. Outside, Vanda delivered them to one of the other councilmembers, a man who introduced himself as Torben. Torben had fed them a small meal of some kind of roasted mystery meat and sliced, fried roots. He had not been unfriendly, but he had been unwilling to answer any questions about the Trial.
When they finished eating, he escorted them to a latrine of some kind and then left them inside a hut, which apparently was the village’s jail. There were no windows, though enough light came in through the cracks in the roughly planked walls that they could see that the inside had a packed earth floor covered with a couple of mats. It was damp but not cold. They were only in the cell for about a quarter of an hour—long enough for Jenna to reassure herself that Kendra was all right and that she wasn’t too scared—before Torben returned and ushered Kip into the cell. They spent all night in the cell, curled up onto a couple of mats. Jenna had a whispered conversation with Kip after Kendra fell asleep—but he didn’t know anything about the trial either.
In the morning Torben returned with some bland mash for breakfast, but Jenna still didn’t get any answers to her questions; Torben harshly ordered her to be quiet when she tried. After they ate and visited the latrine, Torben left Kip in the hut and led Jenna and Kendra to a clearing on the far side of the village. There were risers built out of wooden planks filled with people standing up so they could get a view into the center of the clearing, which held the pit. The grounds around the risers were full of excited people of all ages, even young children, who stared and pointed at Jenna and Kendra when they were escorted through the tightly packed spectators to where Vanda awaited them. Then Jenna saw the pit and forgot all about their noisy audience.
“How long does she have to stay down there?” Jenna asked hoarsely.
Torben answered her, coming up to stand on her other side. “We will wait at least four hours for the roaches to appear,” he explained briskly. “If at least five come to the pit within that period of time, it will confirm that she is indeed favored of The Planet. As for being a Speaker—well, time will tell with that one.”
“Time will tell?” repeated Jenna angrily. “You mean she’ll have to stay down there even longer? That’s ridiculous—she’s a seven-year-old child! Even four hours is asking too much!”
“No, no! Four hours is all she will have to endure at the most,” Torben corrected placidly, as if asking a small girl to stay still on a flimsy platform for several hours was nothing unusual. “But if she has been blessed by The Planet, you will both be permitted to live. As she grows older it will become obvious to all if she is a Speaker.”
Jenna stared at him, a horrible suspicion dawning, filling her with dread for the future despite her more immediate fears. “You mean, you expect us to stay here? Even after she passes your ridiculous trial?”
He sniffed. “Of course you must stay. The Blessed do not leave the village ever again. Or they become the Forsaken.” Jenna turned, about to shout at Torben that they would rather be called forsaken than stay in this truly forsaken village of madness, when a small poke of a spear at Jenna’s back reminded her of their precarious situation. She swallowed, striving valiantly to control her temper. She clamped her mouth shut, grinding her teeth together. Vanda was studying her with a cool, expressionless face, though a spark of some kind flickered in her eyes.
Was that sympathy?
Maybe Vanda understood a little. Maybe she would help them. It was a slim hope, but Jenna grasped to what she could.
A small tug at her sleeve pulled Jenna’s attention to her daughter. She looked down into Kendra’s earnest, open face. “Mommy, it’s going to be OK. I promise,” she said confidently. “Dina will keep me safe.”
Jenna had no choice but to cling to that promise as two guards lowered the ladder into the pit and Torben took Kendra’s arm, leading her away.
“I love you, Kendra!” Jenna called wildly. “Be strong!”
The crowd around the pit started to stamp and clap excitedly. The raised wooden benches allowed for more people to stand and see what was going on over the people in the front. They kept clear of the pit edge, though. No one wanted to risk falling in. Jenna stepped forward so she could better see over the edge and watched Kendra scramble down the ladder. As soon as she dropped into the squelching mud of the pit floor, the two guards removed the ladder, and Kendra rushed to the platform. She had barely stepped onto the first crossbar to pull herself up when three of the giant wattenwil roaches skittered through the holes in the walls. Jenna gasped. “Hurry, Kendra!” she cried, watching her daughter’s muddy foot slip off the wooden slat. By the time Kendra had both feet off the ground, seven roaches had entered the pit and were headed directly for her. A roar of excitement went up from the watching crowd, and there were even whistles of approval. Kendra pulled herself up onto the platform and lay on her belly, peering over the edge at the chaotic mass of roaches below her.
“I count eleven roaches!” Jenna turned to Torben. “That has to be good enough! Obviously she’s shadowed or blessed or whatever you call it. Now get her out of there!” she demanded. Torben ignored her, staring at the roaches with his mouth open. Jenna turned to Vanda, who was also watching the pit with wide, surprised eyes. Another five roaches made their way into the pit. “Do something!” she pleaded. “She’s passed your test!”
“Not quite yet,” Vanda whispered, without taking her eyes off the deadly swarm of insects. “I’ve never seen this kind of response before. Even Floyd only drew eight roaches to the pit, and he had the strongest shadow we have ever seen since Father Konrad. But we cannot interrupt the Trial now.”
Torben suddenly spoke, his voice booming out over the pit. “Andrea Giovanna Kendra Forrest! You have demonstrated that you are Shadowed by The Planet.”
There was an eruption of cheering from the crowd around the pit.
“Now, you will demonstrate whether you have been Blessed by The Planet. Climb down from the platform, and if The Planet has found you worthy, she will protect your steps until you reach the edge of the pit. If you choose to forgo the test of th
e Blessed, you may still prove your worthiness to remain among the Roran by remaining on the platform until The Planet draws away her testers.”
“What?” Jenna exclaimed, the blood draining from her face. “You didn’t say anything about walking out into the roaches!”
“It is our way,” Vanda said calmly. “Your daughter must choose. Will she accept the further test? Or will she choose the lesser route? It is a difficult choice for all who undergo the Trial.”
Jenna opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again. What could she do? Climbing down into the pit right now would be suicide. Was there a way to make a bridge from the top of the pit to the platform, even though it was much lower? Use the ladder perhaps? Or would that just overbalance the platform and send Kendra crashing right into the poisonous mass?
Three more roaches entered the pit, and Kendra looked up from the platform. “Mommy!” she called fearfully.
“Just don’t move!” Jenna called back, wringing her hands.
The crowd of onlookers was growing restless. What had at first sounded like exclamations of excitement now sounded like shouts of dismay. Some of them even sounded angry.
“She’s not controlling the testers,” one man yelled. “She’s not Blessed—this is just some kind of trick!”
“She’s not even one of us,” another shouted. Jenna heard the growing discontent, but she kept her eyes fixed on Kendra, willing her daughter to stay calm and motionless. If she could just last out the roaches, it would be all right. Eventually they have to grow bored or hungry or something and leave the pit, Jenna thought desperately. Would they really have to wait through four hours of this, though?
A growing chant from the crowd forced its way into her awareness. “Down!” they chanted. “Down, down!”
“Kendra, stay where you are!” cried Jenna. These insane Rorans were working themselves into such a state that they weren’t happy with a girl who refused to risk death for their entertainment. However, Jenna didn’t care if Kendra had glory or prestige or whatever it was these Rorans granted their “Blessed.” All she wanted was her daughter safe and sound, and that meant passing this stupid trial with as little risk as possible, not climbing down into the midst of it!
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