by Paul Lucas
Tarantulas hopped about themselves with anxious excitement. "What? You mean it had a purpose besides life support?"
I nodded. "Life support, living space, energy gathering, expansion of ecological niches and such were all obvious reasons to build the Sphere. The Builders would have built Dyson Spheres and other megastructures eventually, but at the height of their era they were in the middle of exploring the galaxy, and had found many worlds that they could terraform. Dyson spheres would actually not have been necessary for many millennia yet.
"But then they encountered...something out in the great dark between the stars."
"Oh? What?"
"I do not know," I said sheepishly. "This is the one thing I do not know if my avatar-self ever found out either, or if she held back. But one impression I got from her was unmistakable. The Builders had instilled no innate emotions into the Nanotech Matrix, beyond the prime directive of preserving and serving the inhabitants of the Sphere. No emotion, save one: fear. Above all, it was to fear whatever they had found out there and do everything it could to protect the Sphere and the lives it held from their discovery."
"So the Sphere was a lifeboat? Moses on the Nile, innocent babes hidden away to save them?"
"No. The Eden Sphere was a fortress. Humanity's last line of defense. Its most unassailable castle in a cosmic conflict we cannot even begin to imagine."
"But the Sphere was shattered. Destroyed! What can that mean?"
"We cannot know for sure," I said, setting my lips in a grim line. "We may never know, I am afraid."
* * *
A few hours later, Zell, the mousy chamber attendant from Kalen's castle who had still felt it her duty to tend to me even a dozen earth-spans away, roused me from my slumber. "We've spotted it, Searcher!"
I propped myself up on my elbows on the small sleeping mat and blinked into the gloom "What?"
"Its still very far away, but we should be there within an hour or two. The, uh, spiders have already established radio contact with the people who live there! There are many there who are very excited about your arrival soon."
I allowed a smile to creep into my expression. They are not the only ones who would be excited.
In two hours, we would be at the Tower.
In two hours, after so long, I would be home.
SEVENTY-ONE
Life, Laughter, Love, Home, Children. These are the only measures of success that ever really matter.
--From the Myotan Oral Traditions
* * *
They had all gathered again, almost everyone of our people, as they did that day now almost eight years ago, when the humans first came to us. Three hundred souls, gathered on the great scrub-grass field surrounding the gargantuan silver-black walls of the Tower.
I watched them as we descended, my heart swelling.
So tiny, they all looked. Even all assembled, united as one, my people were but a speck in the eye of creation. A tiny spark of enlightenment and hope in a sea of endless darkness. Where once they had seemed so mighty, the center of my world.
In truth, they still were. But now I had a sense of how big the world really was, and my people's humble optimism in the face of all that made me love them all the more.
But it was not just them waiting this time, I noticed. A small band of humans waited close by, off to the side. Almost directly opposite the Tower from where we approached a helistat squatted on the large open field, next to what looked like to be small make-shift shelters. Though I had little doubt they were welcome in the Tower for lodging, their plan to turn the Tower into a remote base for helistats would require a great deal of construction outside.
Also unlike that day of first contact, my people were not bewildered or fearful. We had been able to radio ahead to the humans and inform them of our situation. Needless to say, at first they had been extremely doubtful that we would be flying a kilometer-long Builder ship, but their misgivings cleared up completely once they spotted us with binoculars.
We lowered the ship so that it hovered only a few meters above surface, then irised open a lower door and flung out a Llexan-made rope ladder. Then, without ceremony, we climbed out. I was the third down, after Louis and Amethyst, and as soon as my foot touched the ground I looked up at the assembled faces. The closest, a mere wingspan away, was Flier. His broad face broke out into the widest smile I had ever seen, almost laughing in joy. "Gossamyr!" he said quietly, walking up and taking me up in his wings, eyes brimming with moisture. "Gossamyr!" He exulted, much louder this time, as I found myself hugging him back as if he was the only island in a storm-tossed sea.
Suddenly, my name was echoed by everyone present, and soon became a shouted ululation. Jubilantly, my people surged forward in a wave of hugs and slaps and shouted joy.
"Father of my heart," was all I could say, my nostrils filled with the scent of this great male who had always protected me, had always protected all of us. In his arms, at last, I realized I was truly home.
* * *
A hush instantly fell over all of them, however, as Zell, the first of the Llexan Myotans, departed the ship. She seemed to shrink into herself, already nervous and now genuinely afraid as the crowd quieted and as one turned to regard her.
We had gotten so used to humans and non-Myotans in our community we hardly thought different when we saw one. Even the gigantic metal cylinder hovering above them was just a new kind of mundanity to them, after years of enormous human helistats visiting us. But a stranger who was one of our own--an outsider who was as Myotan as we were--was something different altogether.
"Everyone," I announced. "This is Zell, from the city of Llexa where our own ancestors originally came." I grabbed up her tool-fingers and had to almost drag her the several paces it took to reach the front of the crowd. I smiled broadly as I started introductions. "Zell, this is our leader, Flier. His family took me in after my parents died."
She bowed in greeting, but that only lasted for a split second before Flier took her up in his huge arms and hugged her s if she were a long last child. She was still gasping when the other Myotans began disembarking, and more cheers and laughter went up from the crowd. They surged forward to greet these new travelers, who looked so much like ourselves.
Amidst the celebration, just as the sheer elation of returning began to ebb, I was struck forcefully by the one face I longed to see, but could not find. "Flier," I said, pulling him aside during a momentary lull in the greetings, "Where is Windrider?"
His face fell, his lips suddenly set into a grim line. "We must talk, Gossamyr."
* * *
The smell of sickness was hard to miss. I could tell she was kept as clean as possible, but the changes to her own personal scent were unmistakable. A sickness of the lungs, Flier said, one that Windrider's own spirit callings and visiting human doctors could not cure.
As soon as Flier pulled aside the privacy curtain I ran up to her sleeping mat. I took up her hand. "Windrider?"
Her eyes fluttered open, a broad smile instantly breaking her features into a hundred laugh lines. "Gossamyr? Is it truly you?"
I nodded, words catching in my throat.
"You came back." She coughed weakly. "I knew you would. The others, they all said that you were so far away that returning was impossible. But I knew that you would. You are the most extraordinary among us."
I shook my head. "That is untrue. I am not special. I just got caught up in unusual circumstances."
She smiled weakly. "You chose to make yourself extraordinary, daughter of my heart. When your 'unusual circumstances' happened, you chose to fly straight up into their winds, instead of ducking low into safer skies, as many of us would have. I knew that when your dream-self came to me just a month ago."
"My dream self?"
"Oh, yes. She told me of all you had done since leaving us. Your battle with Sunset, your great journey, of finding the ruined city filled with other Myotans, of fighting the monsters from the darkness between the Shards."
&n
bsp; I started. A month ago I had been mentally linked with the Nanotech Matrix. I knew my other self had done a lot without telling me before she allowed herself to be deleted, but I did not suspect that she would have visited Windrider.
But, of course she would have, I realized after a moment’s thought. She was me. In retrospect, it should have been obvious that would have been one of the first things she would have done once the danger were past.
I smiled thinly. "Then I do not need to tell you about all that happened to me."
She patted my tool fingers with her own. "No, no, tell me! Dreams fade. Tell me."
So I did. we talked for several hours before fatigue from her illness claimed her, and she fell into a deep slumber.
I frowned, smoothing the thinning hair from her furry brow. She had told me a lot of what had happened here since I was gone, as well. The births, the deaths, the romances, the arguments, and so on that were always the meat and bones of gossip in our lives. Of the humans beginning construction of their support facilities, the beginnings of what would be equipment sheds and hangars and landing strips to accommodate helistats fully. Of Brightwind's and the others' journey to the KN with Jacqueline. Brightwind apparently longed for the day when he would finally be old enough to be accepted into one of the human universities in the KN, to learn how to become a helistat pilot.
She did not speak much of her own illness, but it was clear from what Flier said and what she haltingly admitted that if she regained some strength she would never recover fully from it.
"There is one last thing," she said, her eyes fluttering as her weariness tried to draw her into sleep. "One last thing, your dream self said to me. Something she has not told you."
"What?"
"A gift to you. A gift to you, and to Lerner."
I blinked in surprise. What could that possibly mean? "What kind of gift?"
"She did not say. She said you would know it, when you received it. But it was very important. The most important gift you would ever receive." Her eyes closed for a few breaths, and I was just about to rise, when they blinked open one last time that night. "I love you, daughter of my heart. The Sky Spirit has blessed me, blessed us all. You came back. Today is one of the best days of my life in this world."
"Spirits, I love you, Windrider," I said, emptying my heart as I hugged her tightly.
Her own embrace was weak, but fierce just the same.
* * *
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. There was much to attend to, from seeing to the Llexans' needs in an alien land, to meeting and catching up with all my friends, to debriefing the humans present, to attending to Shaman duties that Windrider was too sick to attend to.
The latter was in many ways the most unexpected activity, but also the most satisfying. I was surprised at how easily all the rituals and more came flooding back to me. It was comforting to be doing something familiar that brought much security and satisfaction to everyone present, including myself.
On the third night home I woke suddenly in the middle of the night to find myself in the Hall of Remembrance, my only light was Lerner's old flashlight sprawled on the floor beside me. I looked around, confused and groggy. I could not recall how I had gotten there, or why I had fallen asleep on the floor. I looked around, and was surprised when my eyes locked on the preserved skin that held Lerner's tattoos.
I slowly approached it, lightly running my fingers over the very images I myself had transcribed onto his body years before. I smiled as I remembered how he laughed to hide the pain as I poked his skin again and again with the tattoo needle, of how inflamed he usually was after a session, especially that one time I teasingly used my tongue to blot away some excess pigment.
I stopped myself. It was the first time in two years that I could think of him, and smile instead of wince in pain at his memory. He would always be with me until my dying breath. But now, I could perhaps live more in the years of love and wonder we had together, instead of always dwelling on those last few agonized moments of his passing.
I felt a pang, deep in my abdomen. Not painful, not exactly, but I knew something had happened beyond just normal body processes. When I placed my hands on my belly, my own voice, unbidden, popped into my head.
"Two gifts," my Matrix-downloaded self said silently, her last recorded message to me.
My eyes widened, and a simple body divination spell later, I swore to every spirit among the Shards.
SEVENTY-TWO
I do not know how, but Windrider knew the moment I went to see her the next day. Maybe my other self had planted a message in her head as she had mine; or maybe Windrider, with her magic and natural perceptiveness and accumulated wisdom, simply saw what no one else could.
She saw me, her face brightened, and she cough hard. I ran to her, cradling her head and making her sip water. Flier came in just then, never more than a room away from her now. She ignored my efforts as best she could and laid her tool fingers directly on my abdomen. She did seem a bit stronger today, but she would still be a long time recovering. Her smile was as wide as her pained face could make it. "How long has it been?"
Despite myself, my face flushed brightly with crimson in the thin fur around my eyes, like a youngster admitting to her first ear-stroking. Windrider always had that effect on me. "Last night," I said sheepishly. "While I was in the Hall of Remembrance."
Windrider nodded. "Are they Lerner's?"
I nodded, and she laughed delightedly.
Flier had watched the exchanged with growing bewilderment. He furrowed his brows. "What happened in the Hall of Remembrance? What are Lerner's?"
"My children." I said quietly. "I am pregnant with two of Lerner's children."
He gaped, and Windrider just chortled at his naked bewilderment. "But--but how?"
I shrugged. "I am not exactly sure...but you know how I told you that in that great battle at Llexa, I had to make a copy of myself in the Nanotech Matrix? Before she, um, dissolved, she set several nanotech programs--spirit callings--into motion. One was triggered when I entered the Hall of Remembrance. She took the DNA that was still there from Lerner's preserved skin and mixed it with my own with the Matrix's nanites, the way the Others did, but without any hidden programming." A small, satisfied grin crept across my lips. "Despite everything, she was still me. And she wanted me--the me that survived--to be happy. In nine months time, I will give birth to my Mate's children."
Within a few heartbeats, the three of us found ourselves in a close, kneeling huddle around Windrider's mat, gently holding on to each other, drawing strength from our bond that none of us possessed on our own. Celebrating with our closeness those lives who had passed from us, and those lives we had yet to greet.
We were family.
* * *
Windrider, Spirits bless her strength, eventually beat back the sickness ravaging her, but found herself too weakened too often to perform her duties as Shaman.
The ancient ritual was held, and I became the Shaman of our people. I went about my new duties gratefully. The adjustment was harder than I thought it would be. Not only from my own advancing pregnancy, but that all my time away had made everyone near-strangers. It took time and much effort to bridge the gaps that had grown between us, despite everyone's initial enthusiasm.
But there was also much to celebrate. The new Myotans we had brought from Llexa were adjusting to their new surroundings very well, and a number of them had found Mates and fast friends among my people. I was particularly glad to see Zell and Brightwind pair off, and sneaking into the remote storerooms at night when they thought no one would notice. He still had every ambition to travel to the Known Nations to train as a helistat pilot, and it was beginning to look as if he would have at least one stalwart companion for another such epic journey.
We found that eight others of our people could command the interface crystal. They mostly let me handle it anyway--the Builder ship was simply way too much magic for them to deal with comfortably--but it wa
s nice to know that I could pass the burden of it on should I need to.
The humans continued to pass through our territory on their way to more and more distant destinations far into the Outlands. The construction of their helistat repair and resupply base proceeded slowly but inexorably. Through painful and sometimes heated negotiations, Flier got the KN to agree to limit the number of human permanent personnel at the Tower to only a hundred or so. They did not truly need more than that to man their base, and we Myotans would not be overwhelmed by their numbers. Flier agreed that as our community grew the human presence here could as well, but after all that had happened he was determined that Myotans should remain true to our Myotan ways, even if it meant restricting the influence of well-meaning but nonetheless disruptive friends.
Louis and Amethyst, hand in hand, departed shortly my becoming official Shaman. How they would handle confronting Rumiko, I had no idea, but they seemed determined to give their awkward but growing relationship every chance it could. I last saw them boarding a small helistat bound for the KN, arguing at the top of their lungs even as their fingers entwined with passion.
Some couples find love in harmony, or in common goals, or in circumstance. But I knew Louis and Amethyst would always find their love for each other in conflict. And that was as it should be.
D’Artagnan left with them, mentioning writing an epic adventure novel about our journey
The KN officials of course showed a near-salivating interest in the Builder ship that became a familiar site hovering near our Tower. I told them that I fully intended to use it to help them in their exploration efforts, but only in time. My people had to come first. Since the Builder ship could not be operated at the moment by anyone but me, they acquiesced. After all, their exploration of the Shard was likely to take many decades no matter what tools were at their disposal. They could wait a few years until things settled down again.
