Desert World Allegiances

by Lyn Gala

  A frown crossed Shan’s face. He remembered school when they’d all gotten to practice at the various trades, and glassblowing had been one that Shan clearly had no talent for. “That’s not good.”

  “No, it’s not. And if I try and ride that sand bike anywhere, you’re going to be picking pieces of my hair and bones out of sandrat nests. So we go together, and we come back together.”

  Shifting his weight, Shan swung a leg over the front of the bike and slid off. Temar had to put out his feet to keep from tipping over with the bike, but Shan used his foot to extend the long sand stabilizers so Temar could climb off. “You surprise me, Temar Gazer.”

  Temar wasn’t sure how to take that. “Why?”

  “You’re a strong man.”

  “And that surprises you?” Now Temar really wasn’t sure how to take that.

  “Maybe a little,” Shan said with a shrug. He had to come around to Temar’s side to extend the sand stabilizers on that side. “I knew you were a good man. I knew you’d survived a lot with your father. I knew you were an attractive one, and God forgive me, I’ve struggled to remember my vows more than once. It hadn’t occurred to me that you couldn’t drive yourself out of here if I ran into trouble, or that you were the kind of man who would come anyway.”

  “Which is why you’d better not get killed,” Temar pointed out.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Yeah, well just remember, if you don’t, you have to live with the guilt of it up in that heaven of yours.”

  “Trust me, I know that.” Shan suspected he would carry his guilt with him to the next life if he failed Temar.

  Temar hadn’t intended to poke at Shan’s guilt button again. He opened his mouth to explain that the last thing he wanted was to inspire more guilt, but Shan was already moving away from the bike and toward the edge of the rock. Not sure what he could say to alleviate the guilt he’d unintentionally inspired, Temar followed behind. Near the edge of the rock, Shan held up a hand, and Temar stopped, his heart already rising in his throat. The last time he’d been this scared, Cyla had gotten them both arrested, and look how well that had turned out.

  “It looks quiet.”

  “Is it supposed to look like that?”

  Shan nodded. “It usually is. When I first started my apprenticeship for mechanics, I came out here a couple of times. It’s one family that controls the communications relay. There aren’t that many people out here.”

  “Is it just me, or is that a pretty bad plan? I mean, one family running the communications relay? I love my family, but if it was my family left in charge of the communications relay, there would not be a lot of communicating going on,” Temar pointed out.

  Over his shoulder, Shan gave him a crooked grin. “The family’s required to keep it open for inspection by any member of any council from any of the valleys or cities. They run the equipment, but this valley isn’t big enough for any sort of food production or terraforming.”

  “Are they the ones who get the quotas, the crop quotas at the end of every season?” Temar had never really wondered about the quotas much. Their farm had barely produced food for the three of them, which exempted them from quotas… at least Temar thought it had. Ben suggested that his father would have lost the land a long time ago if anyone had pressed a complaint with the council.

  Shan nodded. “For the most part. Doctors have access to some of the quota stores for patients who can’t work anymore. Families can apply for it if they have some sort of temporary hardship. But a lot of the quota does go to them. They’re out here taking care of equipment, hoping that the rest of the universe will—”

  “Live up to their end of the deal?” Temar asked. Everyone who grew up on Livre knew that it was a slowly dying planet, because the inner worlds hadn’t finished the terraforming.

  “They’ll call eventually. The government will need something from us, and they’ll call. If we don’t have our communications relay open, I don’t know what would happen.”

  “Do they even know we’re here anymore?”

  That answer required Shan to think some. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I know the relay sends out its required reports. I know that the family who mans this place is listening for any sort of signal. I also know that the relay keeps track of all of the original infrastructure designed by the terraforming crews. The water reclamation systems, the irrigation systems, communication systems—they have blueprints and tracking systems for all of it.”

  “So what do we hope to find?”

  “Hopefully something that I’ll recognize when I see it.” When Shan said that, Temar gave him a worried look. Maybe Shan could read his expression, because he moved slowly, putting a hand on Temar’s shoulder. “I’m not your sister. I’m going to recognize motherboards if they have them sitting around. And I won’t break anything.”

  Temar nodded as he looked toward the long building. “Do you think they’re in on it?”

  Shan gave a small sigh and took some time before answering. “I don’t know. As a priest, I’m supposed to assume the best of people. I’m supposed to offer absolution and forgiveness. I’m supposed to be Div.” Shan paused long enough to emphasize the fact that “supposed to” didn’t mean anything when it came to what happened in reality. Pulling his sand veil off, he rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Right now I’m a lot more suspicious than he ever dreamed of being. The relay should have tracked every single motherboard coming off the ships. If they had extra motherboards, they should have offered them for medical diagnosis or for the schools. We stopped training students on any of the higher maths because we didn’t have the computing power to show the models. One motherboard could run a computer network that was able to do jump ship simulations or teach multidimensional calculus.”

  “Personally, my vote would be for the doctors to get the circuit boards. But I can see what you mean. These things are important.”

  “They are as important as water. And we don’t have enough of either.”

  “And these people were supposed to be tracking them and making sure everyone shared, right?”

  Shan nodded. “That was the plan. It’s why they’re independent from any of the valleys or towns—they’re the neutral arbiters of the resources.”

  “So the question is, are they getting tricked, or are they part of the problem?”

  Shan got a thoughtful look on his face. “I think it’s time someone asked exactly that question.” Ducking low, Shan started running for the next rock. His long legs covered the ground quickly, so that Temar had to scramble to keep up. His heart pounded painfully fast as he slid into place behind the rock Shan had chosen.

  “I thought you said they wouldn’t see us?” Temar hissed.

  “Probably, they won’t. Probably.” Shan made a little huffing sound. “I don’t know about your family, but in mine, sometimes we got on each other’s nerves. The last thing I want is to get caught by some little brother, out for a walk because he needs some space.”

  Temar imagined what it would mean to live in one building with your family… no valley to walk, no town to visit, no church to hide in when the family overwhelmed you. That was his definition of hell. If this were his home, he’d be walking the outside wall all the time. “Thank you for that cheery thought.”

  “You’re a lot more sarcastic than I expected.” Shan’s observation surprised Temar.

  The fact was that when he was home, he wasn’t all that sarcastic. His sister had claimed that territory. Now, though, he could feel the feelings bubbling up until he wanted to say something cutting, something sharp. He wanted to throw Shan off balance. It was like he was a glass bubble that was just a little warped. That happened when the heat wasn’t even. If he were a piece of glass, he’d know what to do. He had to be reheated, he had to be rolled along the marver. The wide, smooth metal of a marver let a glassblower roll a hot ball of glass up and down until the ball smoothed and the sides cooled just enough that you could blow the glass without
making the sides too thin. Maybe he needed to be reheated. Maybe he needed his surface smoothed out.

  Shan looked over at him. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. I’m known to be rather sarcastic myself,” he whispered.

  “I thought you were the kind of priest who sat home and read the Bible and talked to people and wrote sermons. I didn’t think you were the sort of priest who got sarcastic and rode sand bikes through the desert as people shot at you.”

  “I’m talented that way.” Shan grinned. “Are you ready?”

  “No. However, if these people are stealing water, we should go anyway.”

  Shan reached out and rested his hand on Temar’s arm. At first, Temar could feel his skin crawl at the touch, but he rode through that feeling, smiling at Shan. They could do this. He could do this.

  Without another word, Shan turned and raced toward the building, darting from shadow to shadow. The building had the odd, square lines of those early buildings, the ones that the first settlers had built before they learned to create walls that shrugged off the winds or leaned into rock. So as they got closer, the wind from the gathering storm circled and slapped at them. Tiny wind devils rose from the canyon floor and swept along the bottom until they hit the station and scattered.

  The wall had rivets in straight lines, every seven or eight feet, and a low doorway in the center of each section.

  “Which one do we go in?”

  “I’m not sure,” Shan admitted.

  Temar’s chest tightened.

  Shan reached out for one of the handles and turned it slowly. “When I open it, duck around the rock,” he whispered, nodding toward the nearest good-sized rock. “If someone’s in here, hopefully they’ll think the wind pulled it open.”

  Temar leaned closer. “You’re terrible at planning.”

  “Do you have a better plan?”

  Temar opened his mouth to protest that he could come up with one. This felt too much like Cyla’s plan—too much like rushing in without enough information. However, they didn’t have time to come up with another plan, not now. They were here. Temar played with the idea of demanding that Shan drive them back to Tom’s cave hideaway so they could come up with a better plan. Shan looked at him, waiting.

  “Don’t die,” Temar said firmly. Then he turned and retreated to the rock Shan had chosen.

  Chapter 21

  FEAR made Temar’s heart pound painfully fast as he put a knee in the dust and watched as Shan pulled the door open and then ran for another rock. The metal door banged against the wall, each time making the metal of the entire wall ring like an out-of-tune bell. Temar flinched with every hit, waiting for people to rush out the door and find them. Fear made him crouch lower, but he fisted his hands and waited. Cyla was safe with Naite, and if Temar was going to get caught, he’d fight. He’d fight until they had to kill him before he’d go back to Ben. Ghost hands ran over Temar’s back, making him shiver. He wasn’t under Ben’s hands, and he wouldn’t ever be in that position again.

  From behind his rock, Shan slowly stood, a wind devil making his black hair dance. Shan inched forward, his body coiled and ready for a fight. Temar crouched in the dust and fought against two equal fears, the fear that Shan would be caught and the fear that he was going to crouch in the dust like a worthless lump of clay the whole time. Shan got up close to the door and peered around the edge. Immediately, his body language relaxed. He moved into the building, and Temar slowly stood to follow.

  The only place in Landing that looked anything like this was the council building. The walls stood square against the floor, and every corner was as even as if a ruler had been used. Despite the wind outside, when Temar pulled the door closed behind them, the winds vanished. “The walls are so solid,” Temar said as he laid a hand against the metal.

  “Solid enough to hold out space,” Shan agreed. “If we leave the door open, they’ll think the wind pulled it open.”

  That was probably true. No one left a door open, not when a storm threatened and the house was so clean. Metal tables as smooth as any marver were bolted to the wall, and chairs with thick padding sat in front of them. “It’s like another world,” Temar said in a soft voice thick with reverence. From the way Shan looked around, he felt the same.

  “The first time I came here, I was afraid to touch anything. But this is the way the planet was supposed to be… the people who first came here thought their grandchildren would live in homes like this one.”

  “They were wrong,” Temar said.

  “Yes, they were.” Shan went over and put his ear to yet another metal door that led farther into the building. He stood for some time, but Temar figured if anyone was in the house at all, they would have come when the outer door banged against the wall. Even now, the wind slammed it around, so that the metal reverberated with every hit. Sand swirled through the air, ruining the perfect lines formed by the metal construction.

  “Sounds clear. Be ready to run,” Shan said as he moved his hand to the doorknob and started slowly turning. Temar was so afraid that he wasn’t sure he could run, but he braced himself on one of the tables and waited. Shan pulled the door open, and again his body sagged with relief. He headed through the door, and Temar followed.

  “We’re on the wrong side,” Shan whispered. “This side has the private quarters.”

  Temar looked around and saw two separate vid screens, like schools used, bolted to the wall, and more padded chairs. Several books stood on a shelf, which was unusual enough, but a half-dozen pad computers had been left in the room—one on the table, a couple on a shelf by the vid screen, and one on the padded couch. This was the wealthiest house Temar had ever seen, and that included Ben’s big house.

  “We need to get to the workshop areas, so we need a door into the west half,” Shan said. Temar nodded, but he was too busy looking around to really pay much attention to doors. A hand brushed across his shoulder, and Temar jumped back, sucking in a fast breath.

  “Sorry,” Shan whispered, his hands held up in supplication. “I didn’t mean to startle you. We just need to focus here, okay?” He looked so intense that for a second Temar had the impression that Shan was peering straight into him and seeing all the wondrous and childish awe he was feeling. It was a house, nothing more. Temar nodded.

  Shan kept looking at him for several seconds before he nodded and headed down the long room to the door on the other end. Temar stayed back by the door to the outside while Shan slowly opened this one, checking before he headed into the next room. When he followed, Temar discovered this was a long, clean mechanical room with machines Temar couldn’t even guess at. The familiar incinerator and recycler stood on one wall, but a dozen other machines were a total mystery to him. However, obviously none were important, because Shan moved to the next door. This room had that west-facing door, and Shan pressed his ear to the metal, listening for some time before he pushed the door open.

  Again, his body language eased as he pulled the door open and went into a room that looked like a vid of one of the ship control rooms. Machines lined every wall, and Shan’s eyes went wide as he looked around. Temar followed, and this time he rested his hand on Shan’s arm to focus him.

  “Am I the only one who expected someone to challenge us before now?” Temar whispered.

  Shan’s expression turned grim. “I did think I’d be either bluffing or throwing a few punches by now,” Shan admitted. “I don’t understand why no one is here.”

  “Because they’re somewhere else?”

  “Brilliant,” Shan said, but the grin made up for the dry tone. “This computer runs the tracking program for water usage,” Shan said as he started it. Slipping into one of the chairs, he focused totally on the screens as they started to report out figures. Since Shan had found his computer, Temar moved to check the two other doors, one north and one south. The north one had what looked like a storage room, with deep shelves on either side of a narrow aisle. The south door led to another mechanical room, this time with vario
us machines in parts all over shelves and on one long table that ran the length of the room. There were even more machines and tools that Temar didn’t recognize.

  “Shan,” he said as he held the door open for Shan to see.

  Shan glanced over. “When I interned with Holmes, he came over here to work on all sorts of equipment. If a local mechanic can’t get it fixed, they’ll send it here. They have training vids here too, although I didn’t know they had vid units in the living quarters.” Shan’s fingers typed as his voice trailed off.

  Temar walked through and poked at a couple of the stranger machines before he returned to Shan and his computer. There were actually about six computers in the room—big things that bolted to the wall with keyboards that slid out. He wondered if they were part of the original ship that had brought people to Livre. It was strange to see these artifacts of a world that had ceased to exist before his grandparents were born. The inner worlds had begun to default on the deliveries within a few generations, and then when war broke out, they’d abandoned Livre altogether. But this place looked as if people from another planet might land any time. The windwood furniture and elaborate glassware of a wealthy Livre home was missing. The walls weren’t painted with some mural, and there weren’t any thick, wind-resistant glass panels that made the world bend and warp when you looked out them.

  “Damn it,” Shan swore.

  Temar turned and waited for some sort of explanation, but Shan just pushed himself away from the keyboard, his chair rolling over the metal floor.

  “Nothing. There’s nothing,” Shan snapped. Temar’s eyes darted to the door, as he half expected someone to hear and come running, but if there was anyone home, they didn’t want to confront a couple of intruders.

  “Maybe Ben’s tampered with the gauges on the line itself,” Temar suggested. That’s what he and Cyla had assumed when they thought Landowner Young had stolen their water.