Downtime

by Cynthia Felice

  “Be careful coming up,” Marmion said. “It’s steep and I haven’t much room to maneuver the gun. Don’t get in the beam.”

  “Better hurry,” Calla said. “I hear water. I think they’re flooding the sewer.”

  Arria scrambled up quickly and Jason followed, then turned to give Calla a hand should she need it. But she raised herself through the small opening with her arms and got to her feet on her own. He took her hand anyhow and felt her squeeze his reassuringly. “That was the easy part,” he said softly. “Now we climb.” He felt Calla tighten up and he pulled her close. “It’s the only way. You can do it, Calla. We’ll let Arria lead.”

  “I’ve done some rock climbing in my time,” Marmion said. “Comes with the job.”

  “Arria’s done more; she’s the best. We’ll put Calla between us.” He knew that if he could see her face, it would be hateful. Not for him nor even what he was doing for her, but for herself, because even in this she wanted to be on her own. But that same self-loathing would keep her climbing, and climbing carefully so that neither he nor Marmion would have to risk themselves on her behalf. A fall here probably wouldn’t kill them in itself, but there’d be no rescue team to tend a broken bone. “Take it easy, Arria,” he said.

  “I will. Give me your gun, will you?”

  He handed it over, and Arria started out. Marmion helped to light her way for a while with his gun, being careful to keep the beam off Arria. Jason started climbing, and then the water came. It gushed up from the crack to the sewer like a geyser, forcing Calla and Marmion onto the wall with him. They climbed steadily for a few minutes until they were clear of the new water. If they used the entire reservoir, Jason knew they could keep it coming for a few hours, enough to make a little lake beneath them. He didn’t know whether to be grateful that it might be enough to break a fall, for that much would also be quite enough to drown in.

  Arria had to pick a new route three times before she topped the wall, but she was the only one who retraced her steps. Jason simply didn’t follow until he could see that Arria had found another secure perch for Calla to rest on. It took several hours, and his own arms and legs were tired when they finally reached the top. Calla’s limbs were trembling. But at least now it was more walking than climbing, and Jason put his arm around Calla so she could lean on him when she stumbled.

  ***

  Night had fallen when they reached the mouth of the cave.

  Moonlight was streaming in and lighting the canyon below like a little sun. The four of them stood at the entrance for a while, looking down the rock- and shrub-strewn slope until one of Mahdi’s flyers, moving slowly and flying low, came into view, searchlight illuminating the canyon even more. They stepped back into the cave’s recesses.

  “Now what,” said Marmion. “If we go down there, they’re sure to catch us.”

  “We can go around,” Arria said, “Stay on the ledges . . .” But then she looked at Jason and pressed her lips together. He had been thinking exactly that, but was already dismissing the plan because he wasn’t sure Calla could go any further.

  “They’re not likely to find us here,” Calla said. “We won’t leave until we know where we’re going and why.” She moved back to an outcropping of rock and sat. Her breeches were torn, her knees bloodied.

  “I’m all for going anywhere that’s far,” Marmion said anxiously. “It’s a big planet. If we go far enough and quickly enough, we can get by until the Decemvirate or council sends another fleet.”

  Calla shook her head. “It could be months . . . or years. I can’t tell you which. And when they come, who knows what will happen. Mahdi has control of the very last elixir facility. They’ll be tired of war, cautious, and the war will break down. That leads to diplomacy.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it,” Marmion said, crouching next to Calla. “That’s what should have been done in the first place, and perhaps there wouldn’t have been a war at all.”

  “I don’t think anyone, not the Decemvirate nor council nor a single individual world, would have negotiated with Mahdi when this began,” Jason said. “Even if they realized as Calla and I did that his personality and experience were such that a show of force was as natural to him as breathing, they wouldn’t have believed he had sufficient strength and the ability to apply that strength to the extent that he could end up ruling all the known worlds. But their biggest failing was in not accepting the predictions from the Decemvirate on how the worlds would behave if war did occur. That’s what Mahdi took advantage of. He knew they would fight one another; the Decemvirate wouldn’t be that far off. He chose force because peace wouldn’t have worked. And in a way, maybe we should thank him. It might have been a much longer war if the worlds were left simply to fight each other.”

  “And I should thank Mahdi for trying to steal the prize while they were fighting because then the worlds had nothing left to fight about?” For a moment, Marmion had an astonished look on his face that made Jason wince. “Perhaps I should curse Calla for intervening, too, for if she had not, the war might have been over.”

  “Curse me when I’m finished, Marmion,” Calla said, her eyes flashing like lightning in the moonlight.

  Marmion laughed, then was grave again. “Never, Calla. I’m just glad to hear you’re not finished. I don’t want to live in a galaxy ruled by Mahdi’s hand. Now, what’s your plan?”

  Jason looked at Calla to find her eyes on him. “He’s not even Dovian,” she said simply.

  “Of course I’m not,” Marmion said, looking slightly ruffled. “You know that.”

  Jason ignored him. “What’s your plan?” he asked Calla softly.

  She stood up and moved more fully into the moonlight, looking into the canyon, studying it. Then she turned to face them. “You and Marmion must go to the Jinn mine. There are explosives in the chest . . . at least, there were.”

  Arria nodded. “They’re still there.”

  “While you’re gone, Arria and I will work our way over the top of this ridge, then down to the terrace lake. When you return, one of us will meet you at the Amber Forest and guide you back by the least guarded route we find. When the moon has waxed sufficiently, we’ll swim out to the caisson in the lake, plant the explosives, and destroy Red Rocks.”

  “Calla!” Marmion was stunned. “You can’t be serious. Not the very last source.”

  “I am completely serious. It was not the way I wanted it, but it’s just as sure. Mahdi will be stopped.”

  Marmion turned to Jason in agitation. “There might not even be any starter seed left anywhere. It will take a generation or more to recover.”

  Jason lowered his head, feeling very sick and shaken, just as he imagined Marmion must be.

  “You both know she’s right,” Arria said, sounding angry. “Why do you hesitate. You know it!”

  “Yes.” Jason paused. He looked at Arria, not certain that she had picked up the confirmation from himself and Marmion, or if she had come to a conclusion of her own. Her face, always sunburned in summer, looked washed in a way the moonlight could not account for. He knew that she was speaking with sure knowledge of all of them. “We can’t just run away. Not even knowing that Mutare is vast enough in which to disappear . . . forever, if we wanted to.”

  “I know you’re right,” Marmion said with sadness. He jerked. “What the hell. We wouldn’t last long without stellerators anyhow.”

  “Long enough,” Jason said, but he regarded Arria and felt troubled.

  Arria flushed and shook her head. “I wasn’t planning to have children anyway,” she said. “That’s what really counts, isn’t it?” She looked at Jason, trying to be steady about it, but fresh color came up under her sunburn.

  “Arria can stay here,” Calla said, her voice unusually soft but very steady. “I will have plenty of time to make it on my own.”

  “No!” Arria held up a restraining palm. “You’re all . . .” She shook her head, perplexed. “Just stop. You need me. I can guide you right past thei
r guards, and I’m the only one who can do that. I can’t be surprised by someone hiding behind a bush.”

  “You missed a whole contingent of Praetorians sneaking into Red Rocks, Timekeeper knows how.”

  “Through the big acid drains in the back,” Arria said. “There were no guards to stop them.”

  Jason frowned. “But if you knew . . .”

  Arria shook her head violently. “I was deliberately shutting out everyone except . . .” She hesitated. “I shut out the most important one because I thought it would please you. You were worried that D’Omaha and Stairnon were avoiding you because of me, that like everyone else they didn’t like the idea of having a mind-reader around. You were right, but not because they were just a little afraid I would intrude on their private thoughts. They were terrified that I would learn their secret.”

  “What secret?” Jason asked.

  “I don’t know. I never did intrude, because, well, I thought you would prefer it that way. But I do know he had to be the one to tell the guards to leave their stations. I caught that much from some of the surprise and guilt from our people when the Praetorians came into Round House. They knew it was wrong to leave before their reliefs were there, but they were ordered away by someone important enough to make them do it anyway. It could only have been you, Jason, or Calla or D’Omaha. I know it wasn’t either of you. I can tell.”

  “I know you can, Arria.” Jason tried to sound comforting, but Arria looked as if she were going to cry. He probably had confused her a great deal by telling her she didn’t understand what was in his mind. Either it made her doubt whatever else she picked up from other people, or she tried to ignore every stray thought. Whichever, he had done her a great disservice. If she felt as bitter about him as she looked right now, he really couldn’t blame her. “Damn, what a fool I’ve been.”

  “She could have told you long ago,” Calla said, her tone unforgiving. “If it was D’Omaha . . .” Calla shot a glance at Arria. “It’s very hard to believe. He had no reason.”

  Again Arria shook her head. “He did have a reason, a terrible one. I just don’t know what.”

  “The point is, that whoever it was, with your capability, you could have found him or her for Jason.”

  “Calla,” Arria said in a very subdued voice. “Will you ever forgive us?”

  “It’s me and me alone who’s at fault,” Jason said with utmost gentleness. “And, no, she’ll never forgive me. But she won’t hold it against me forever either. At least, she never has in the past.”

  Calla looked at him with that directness of hers and nodded. “You never learn quickly enough. It’s always too late.” She shrugged. “If you and Marmion don’t get started soon, you’ll have sunlight to contend with.”

  “We’ll all hang,” Marmion said, but he was already started for the opening. Then he turned back. “I have my jelly roller.” He pulled the little computer out of his breast pocket. “If anything happens to . . . well, to any of us, we should record that we’re all in agreement on this thing, that we’ve each volunteered and not been coerced in any way.”

  “It’s not necessary,” Calla said. “It’s me who will be held responsible.”

  “Ah, but you shouldn’t have all the credit, Calla,” Marmion said, his eyes sparkling. “I’ve always fancied myself a hero.”

  Jason nodded, and reached for the jelly roller. Such a record could minimize Calla’s role in this final effort if she were court-martialed or brought to trial for war crimes. And if she were not, truly Marmion did deserve credit as a hero, if that’s what he wanted. Besides, Calla couldn’t really believe that anyone could be ordered to embark on a mission like this. He talked into the jelly roller, trying not to see the incredulity on Arria’s face and trying not to wonder what she knew that he did not know.

  Chapter 25

  Calla had determined that she and Arria should remain in the cave until the following night and rest, since they did not have too far to travel and would have several nights to do it in. Calla’s body required the rest, though the results were questionable. The gash on her leg made her knee stiff, and the hip, of course, always hurt, so when they did set forth she could not cover much ground at a stretch. Still, there was no doubt in her mind that they would make it, and well within the time frame she had established with Jason and Marmion. But she wished she could move quickly and lithely as Arria did, for then she would be able to assess the situation at Red Rocks sooner. How many ground troops had Mahdi brought? Enough to make sabotage impossible? Or was he relying on near-orbit weaponry, which was not as effective against a few determined guerillas.

  “I can go ahead,” Arria suggested when Calla called a halt to their trek while it was still several hours before dawn.

  “No,” Calla said, keeping her voice low even though she was certain Arria would have known if anyone were near. “Use the time to find us a good shelter from the cosmic rays and the enemy. Do that, and we will have done well enough for one night.”

  Arria left her for less than an hour, then returned to lead her to a fall of boulders overgrown by thick-branched, small, hardy shrubs with large green foliage that shimmered in the moonlight. A cleft in the rocks formed a suitable cave, and there was a trickle of water, just a small natural runoff from higher ground that had not yet dried up in the summer’s heat.

  “Are you hungry?” Arria asked her when they had settled into the niche.

  “Yes, but it can wait. The loss of a little mass won’t hurt me.”

  Arria pulled up some roots with greens still attached from under her shirt. “It’s too early for berries, but these are pretty good,” she said handing half to Calla. “It’s all right,” she said when she saw Calla hesitate. “I’ve eaten them many times.”

  Calla smiled. Arria hadn’t quite understood her thoughts. “I cannot always eat what other people eat.”

  “Suit yourself,” Arria said, biting into one of the roots.

  Calla sniffed the roots in her hand, smelled nothing but fresh dirt, and decided that she was hungry enough at least to taste them. An agreeable flavor was no guarantee, but she knew from experience that bland foods tended to be less difficult to digest. One of the shamans on Mercury Novus had even told her to eat more fresh-grown foods and to stay away from processed and imported goods, thus reducing her exposure to chemicals that had no nutritional value but which made the food taste good. She had followed his advice for almost a year, and while it did her no harm she couldn’t discern any special good, and it certainly was inconvenient. She had earned a reputation for having peculiar eating habits, which except for that single year of her long life was untrue. Some foods made her bilious, just as they did other people. The difference was that she could not take drugs to relieve the condition.

  “You’re like me,” Arria said, almost peeping at her with a sudden shyness.

  “How so?” Calla looked at her with interest. “I can’t read minds. I’m not the slightest bit psi.”

  “Different. Not like anyone else.” She flicked a tendril of hair that had strayed too close to her mouth. “They look at you, and they wonder what it’s like. Sometimes they’re . . . “

  “Repulsed?” Calla sighed. “It doesn’t matter, not unless you let it. I’ve learned to ignore it.”

  “But not entirely.”

  Calla bit into the root. “No. Not entirely.” She chewed the root pulp and found it slightly sweet. “It only matters when it seems to get in they way of having something you want very much.”

  “You have everything.”

  Calla laughed. Here she was out in the bush with only the clothes on her back, and Arria thought she had everything.

  “You do,” Arria said, frowning seriously. “You’re a leader and people trust you, despite your being different. They respect you and they care for you.”

  “I earned it,” Calla said, deciding that modesty had absolutely no part in this conversation, for Arria might not understand the difference between demurring and lying. />
  “It’s what I need to do. I’ve tried, Timekeeper knows. But I haven’t succeeded.”

  “It would be difficult if people were uncertain of how extensive your psi abilities were and what you could do with them. Perhaps you just haven’t found the right way, yet. I know it’s no consolation, but some of it simply comes with age . . . no. With experience. You’ve had precious little experience with people.”

  “Two years,” Arria said, sounding exasperated. “I did everything he asked me. I kept up his studies on the danae while he was busy with the tunnel, the defense lines, and even those constant inspections he was always doing. The danae studies were good. Jason even said so. He thought that maybe my father had been a scholar of some kind instead of a soldier, and that that’s why I did so well. But, it didn’t do any good.”

  “I suspect it would have been just fine and very satisfying if what you wanted out of it was credibility as a danae expert. But that isn’t what you were looking for, was it?”

  Arria said nothing, but sat looking at the half-eaten root in her hand.

  “Arria,” Calla said, suddenly feeling exasperated herself. “You know that I know you love Jason. You fell in love with him on sight, almost as I did when I was even younger than you. You must also know that I don’t hold that against you.”

  The rainwater eyes looked at her strangely.

  No, Calla thought. She can’t tell for sure. “I’m sorry, Arria. I am the wrong person to ask about love. I know now I love him and that I always have. But do you realize that I didn’t know, even tried to deny it for thirty years? And I’m still not certain that he really loves me. I mean, I want to believe it. I always did. But I’m too smart to feel absolutely confident that he just . . . does.”

  “I don’t understand,” Arria said. “I mean, I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t understand it. You’re sure that he loves you because you are smart and he can trust you. But you seem to think he doesn’t love you because of the same reasons, and that doesn’t make sense.”