A Bait of Dreams

by Clayton, Jo;

  She shivered. “I’d go crazy with boredom.” With a yawn and a groan, she stretched arms and legs. “Talk about impossible pressures. Ugh! Shounach.”

  “What?”

  “We can’t kill him. That would be like … like cutting all their throats.”

  “Consequences of intervention.”

  “Fancy words for murder.” She wrinkled her nose, then shook her head. “The Keeper’s small and tired, but he’s no fool. Jevati won’t get near him when he’s awake. Tetaki will have to use his knife. He’s very good at throwing it.”

  “Would he insist on that?”

  She rubbed her forehead, then smoothed her hand back over her hair. “Tetaki’s no killer.” She laughed. “Except when he’s trading.”

  “Mmmh. Would he trade with the thissik if he had a chance?”

  Gleia grinned. “Yes.”

  “That’s all? Just yes with no qualifications?”

  She giggled. “Wave a few market in front of Tetaki and watch him salivate.” She hugged her arms across her breasts. “His mouth must be watering already over the things he’s bringing up from the ship. Probably has a few little tidbits stashed away hoping to collect them if he gets away. Can you get the Keeper to listen?”

  “I can try.”

  “He’s going to kill us when the clean-up’s finished, isn’t he.”

  He looked sharply at her. “So you caught that.”

  “So am I stupid?” She sniffed. “Shounach the Juggler. Juggling lives.” She yawned and closed her eyes. “This night is crawling along. Where are you going after you get loose?”

  “Here and there.”

  “Off world?”

  “You say that with remarkable equanimity for a young woman in a low-level technology.”

  She chuckled drowsily. “Big words, big words. Some of the seaborn have forgotten less about their origins than the other sorts here. Temokeuu says it’s because of long lives and a very stable culture.”

  “Your father?”

  “You say that with remarkable equanimity,” she murmured. “Some people consider my relationship with him sick and shameful—mammal consorting with fish—and the other way around depending on who’s talking.”

  “Affection transcends form,” he said gravely.

  “Affectation obscures sense.” She snorted and opened her eyes. “Did you crash here too? Temokeuu told me about the …” she hesitated, trying to remember just what he’d said, “the way things are around our world and our suns. Like marshland trapped with quicksand, some places safe enough and others that twist and tear the starships until they are destroyed or tumble down on us.” She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Temokeuu says there are hundreds of different worlds out there. Is it like going from Cern to Cern? He says the distances the ships travel are so great I can’t even begin to imagine them. Have you seen many worlds? Are they anything like Jaydugar? Tell me.…”

  “Slow down.” He was laughing so hard he swallowed the words. “Later, Gleia,” he managed. “Plenty of time later.”

  The bar chunked back and the door swung open. Tetaki looked in. “Come on,” he said. “The only guard is half-asleep by the front gate.”

  He led them swiftly through a maze of corridors then ducked into a room. A section of the wall had been knocked to powder by a stone spat out during the eruption. Tetaki wriggled through and helped Gleia out. Shounach had more trouble, being both longer and wider than either of the other two, but he got out, leaving some skin on the wall stone.

  Tetaki strolled down the slope and waited for them on the path. “The keeper’s in there all right, but he’s not alone for very long,” he said. “Thissik go in and out all the time. I spent almost half an hour there. He’s sitting at a worktable, writing when he’s not talking with the other thissik.” He shook his head. “We’ll have to kill him fast, let Jevati get the key and get out of there like a triseal with a cheksa on its tail.”

  “No! Tetaki, we can’t kill him.”

  “How the hell else is Jevati going to get the key?”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Shounach said quietly. “If you can get me in there.”

  Tetaki ran his eyes over Shounach’s length. “How good are you underwater?”

  “Good enough. If you’ll provide a tow.”

  Tetaki nodded. “That’d do it. You’re right.” He grinned suddenly “What the hell. Rather not kill him. I cooled off a while back, started thinking about getting loose.”

  Night-black water slapped softly at the pier’s stone pillars, throwing back flickers of moonlight. Aab was directly overhead, swimming in and out of thickening clouds, while Zeb hovered low in the western sky. The wind tugged persistently at Gleia’s hair, lifting the heavy oily mass from her neck. She put her hand on Jevati’s shoulder, shocked by her painful fragility. “You sure you want to do this?” She shook her head. “You look terrible.”

  Jevati grinned. “I could say the same.” She wrinkled her nose. “You stink.”

  With a low laugh, Gleia pushed at her hair. “I know what you mean. When there’s no breeze I even offend myself.” She looked up at the dark almost invisible bulk of Endhouse. “Did Tetaki tell you?”

  Jevati nodded.

  A seaborn jumped down from the pier with a coil of rope in one hand. As Gleia and Jevati watched, the rope was cut in two pieces, and loops worked in both ends of each piece. Shounach slipped his arms in the loops on one piece and began wading out from the shore.

  “Come here, Gleia,” Tetaki flipped the rope about, slapping it against his thigh. “Time to put you in harness.” He slipped the loops over her arms and pulled them up to her shoulders. Then he tugged at the rope. “That hurt?”

  “No. The sleeves keep it away from my skin.” She moved her arms tentatively. “Feels peculiar.”

  Tetaki laughed softly. “You can stand that.” He sobered. “You’ll go in on your back. There’s quite a current coming out. You’ll have Vanni and Uvoi towing you. Don’t try to help. Just relax. When you feel two jerks like this—” he tugged on the rope—“that means you’re about under one of the standpipes. Pull yourself up. Breathe. When you’re ready, tug three times, then three more.” He looked past her. Gleia turned.

  Shounach floated on his back. He was smiling and his eyes were darker than usual. He’s enjoying this, she thought. He breathed deeply several times then took a normal breath and tugged on the rope. His body went smoothly under the water.

  Gleia closed her eyes. She was terrified of shut-in places. She’d never told anyone, not even Temokeuu. The thought of going so far in the dark unable to breathe brought her close to panic. When she opened her eyes Tetaki, Jevati and the others were gone. Vanni and Uvoi stood quietly at her side waiting for her. She looked up at the moon, knowing she could wait here without shame. Tetaki would bring the key to her. But she couldn’t do it. In spite of her terror, curiosity drove her to go. She had to SEE. She waded out, lay on her back. When she was ready, she tugged on the rope and they took her down.

  The glimmer of moonlight vanished too quickly and she was gliding through a blackness colder than death. She felt a tiny touch on her arm, then another, then hundreds more were tickling at her face and hands. She almost panicked before she realized the touches had to be weeds growing on the walls. Her lungs began to hurt; blood pounded in her ears. She almost missed the double tug. It came again and she struggled up, feeling at the weedy circle and pulling her head up until she was gasping and spitting out water in the narrow circumference of the standpipe. She stayed there until she felt cleansed, then breathed deep, breathed light, held her breath and signaled them to take her on. They pulled her back into the wet dark and the weeds fluttered about her again. Like fingers laughing. Mocking her.

  The signal. More air. A precious faint light high above. And darkness. Black water. Weed. The chafing pull of the rope. A ghost of light. Flashes around her like tiny fish. Not fish. Reflections of red light on the twisting weed. Red light. Like
swimming in blood. Brighter and brighter. She was arching upwards, hands about her, helping her. Her head broke the surface gently like a leaf drifting up instead of down. Hands covered her mouth. Breathe in … out … through the nose. Quiet. Then she was clinging to the edge of the pool. They were all there, Shounach, Tetaki and the other seaborn.

  They waited. The thissik came in and out. The Keeper was seldom alone for more than five minutes. Finally the intervals between visits grew longer and longer. Still they waited. The glow tubes blinked out around the court leaving three still lighted by the worktable. The Keeper was reading a paper and marking on it with a stylus, stopping every few minutes to sip at a cup sending up thin wavers of steam.

  Shounach was up and over the screen in a quick smooth movement. Then he strolled toward the Keeper.

  The thissik looked up at the small sound of the splashing water. His hand darted toward a small dark cube then drew back as he recognized his visitor. “Juggler.” He smiled. “I’ve been expecting you, Starfox.”

  Shounach reached into his bag and pulled out two glowspheres. Smiling slightly, he began putting them into the air. One two, up and over, more into the circle, up and over. After several revolutions another object circled with the spheres, a clear egg-shaped crystal that began sending out veils of soft color as it warmed to his touch.

  Gleia began to shudder until she barely had the strength to cling to the poolside. The Ranga Eye. He stole it, she thought. He wanted the Eye. Shounach. She felt sick.

  “You wanted this,” the Juggler said. The Eye left the circle and flew in a lazy arc toward the Keeper. His hands seemed to move of their own volition, reaching out, catching the Eye. He looked down at what he held and could not look away.

  Shounach slipped the glowspheres back in the bag. “Jevati,” he said quietly.

  Tetaki boosted her out of the pool and followed after her. The other seaborn surged out behind him, but Gleia didn’t attempt to move.

  “The key. What does it look like?” Jevati spoke in a hushed murmur.

  “Small black rod. On a chain around his neck.”

  Jevati nodded. As she sped across the tiles toward the rigid Keeper, Shounach bent over the screen and took Gleia’s hand. “Push,” he said.

  She stumbled over the screen and nearly fell. He caught her, then stood looking down at her. “Almost over.”

  “Will there be a happy ending in our tale?”

  “Ending?”

  “Hunh! I’m not in the mood for ponderous platitudes.”

  His eyes burned blue and he nearly choked on stifled laughter.

  Jevati came back with the key. When all the collars were off, Shounach dropped them into the pool. Then he crossed to the table where Tetaki was indulging his curiosity by poking through the papers and picking up and putting down the bits of instrumentation scattered among them.

  “Want to leave? Or see if you can do a deal with the Keeper?”

  Tetaki grinned. “You need to ask? What about him? He wasn’t anxious to listen the last time. I’ve had all the collaring I want.”

  “He’ll listen.”

  Tetaki rubbed at his chin. “Worth a try. Can you wake him up a bit?”

  Shounach leaned over the table and plucked the Eye from the Keeper’s hands. The thissik screamed, then collapsed. Dipping his hand into the bag, Shounach brought out a black disc. He reached across the table and pressed it against the thissick’s neck, held it there a few seconds, then pulled it away and stood watching.

  The Keeper sighed, then sat up. He moved his eyes over the collarless seaborn, then looked at Shounach. “What now?”

  “Up to you. Do we leave or talk a bit?”

  “What did you give me?”

  “Inaltaree. It’ll wear off in about two hours, that dose. And you’ll crash for twenty.”

  The Keeper groaned. “I.…” He touched the papers in front of him. “I don’t have twenty hours to spare.”

  Shounach’s wide mouth curled into a slow smile. “Tetaki, here’s a man you should understand. Proud as a seaborn. Won’t take help.”

  Tetaki rubbed his thumb across his fingertips. “Might buy himself some if he works it right.”

  The Keeper straightened, a glow brightening in his eyes. His tail had been moving listlessly across the floor. It came up to a carefully non-committal angle. He touched fingertip to fingertip and let out a long slow breath. “Offer,” he said crisply.

  Gleia lowered herself onto the screen. “I think it’s going to work,” she murmured as she watched the animated exchanged between the Keeper and Tetaki. The other seaborn threw in a word now and then, skillfully backing their leader. Shounach watched with a sardonic smile on his pale face, thoroughly enjoying the scene. Gleia touched her tongue to her upper lip then dropped her eyes to her hands. “How do you feel, little fish?”

  “A little tired, that’s all. Fuss, fuss, worse than a mother.” She sounded amused. “I’ll rest when I get to Radnavar.”

  “You still have to make that journey?”

  “Nothing has changed.”

  Gleia pushed at her filthy hair. When she glanced back at Shounach, he seemed to feel her eyes and smiled at her, then he went back to watching the lively bargainers. The argument was picking up momentum and gathering noise as it moved along. Gleia closed her eyes. Worlds on worlds opened up for her with Shounach, but there was no way Jevati could finish alone, her frailty now after this brief interlude was evidence enough of that. “What happened to the Dragonfish?”

  “As soon as they took off with you, I put the anchor over and bagged the sail. Unless the cable broke or some stickyfinger came along, it might even be there still. If not, plenty of boats at the pier.”

  “We’ll need one anyway. I can’t swim that far and you shouldn’t.” She pushed herself onto her feet. “With the current behind me I won’t need towing. You go first.”

  Jevati’s cool smooth fingertips touched Gleia’s cheek in a brief caress. Then she was gone, tipped over back into the water. Gleia looked a last time at Shounach, then eased her body into the water. She sucked in a breath and dived into the darkness.

  FIFTH SUMMER’S TALE (PART ONE)

  Southwind My Mother

  Spring came finally to Cern Radnaver and Gleia grew restless again. When the ice melted in the harbor, the soft wind that blew in from the south whispered to her of things she’d never seen. While the double sun Horli-Hesh pushed up over the cern behind her, she climbed a rock nesting in the noisy water near the harbor’s entrance, displacing as she did this a few dozen birds and more small scurrying things she didn’t bother trying to identify. Legs crossed, hood pulled well forward to shield her head from the blue sun’s bite, she perched on the rock and stared out toward the open water.

  “Southwind,” she murmured. “I was a beggar, then a thief, then a slave in all but name in Carhenas. And I left Carhenas at my own pleasure. I was daughter to Temokeuu-my-father, adopted into the seaborn, comfortable and warmed by affection. And I left him. Southwind, I live in comfort and affection here with my seaborn sister Jevati, as much almost from her family, especially the little wigglers who follow me about like puppies and listen to me like I’m the greatest thing since sugar melons. All this, Southwind sweet wind. All this and now.… And now.…” She laughed and flung out her arms, embracing the wind that pushed against her.

  “Talking to yourself?” Jevati’s contralto broke through the noise of the wind and water.

  Gleia grinned down at her friend. “Talking to the wind, little fish.” Jevati was plumper these days with a silver sheen to the delicate blue-green of her skin. Once again she was a cherished daughter instead of a sick and neglected wife. Once again she danced in waters with her own, filled with joy and lightness. Gleia dropped onto her knees and watched Jevati struggle up the side of the rock. The seaborn were not made for climbing.

  Breathing in quick short pants, Jevati fell into a tired sprawl beside Gleia. She sat in silence, staring out into the wind until a li
ne of vandars flew overhead, strong wings cutting into the wind, eerie cries counterpointing the continual brush-brush of the water. She twisted round and rested a webbed hand on Gleia’s shoulder. “You’re not content here any more, my mammal. You want to leave us.”

  Gleia curved her neck and rested her cheek briefly on the hand. Then she straightened, looked down at hands opening and closing. “I don’t know, little fish.” And knew as she said it, it was a lie. She was silent again for a while. The wind coiled around them, warmer than the rock, smelling of summer and green growing things. Off to the south a small boat was running before the wind, heading for the harbor. She watched the white triangle of sail grow larger as the crew brought the boat skillfully past the Grinders and into the channel. “Where would I go?”

  “I thought you might want to go home. Temokeuu …”

  “Home!” Gleia threw herself recklessly back on the rock, arm flung across her face to protect it from the sting of hard blue Hesh. “Home.” The word was muffled by her sleeve. Even more softly, she said, “I’ve never had a home, just temporary resting place, even with Temokeuu.”

  “I don’t understand you.” Jevati stroked her hand along the arm that passed over her friend’s face. “You’ve got a home with us. Always.”

  “I know.” Gleia felt a sudden weariness. Jevati said she didn’t understand, but didn’t mean it. The friendship between us is real and deep. But this is a part of me she can’t possibly understand. Where was I born? When? Of what parents? She moved her arm a little so she could see her friend’s face. A sudden revulsion for her wallow in self-pity brought her sitting up with a sharp laugh. “South-wind’s making me itch, that’s all.” Then she looked past Jevati. She sucked in her breath, jumped to her feet, waved wildly.

  The figure standing at the tiller waved back, beckoned to another, jumped overboard. Moments later Tetaki was clambering awkwardly up the rock. He collapsed grinning beside the two women “This penchant of yours for sitting atop rocks, Gleia-my-sister.” He chuckled and shook his head, scattering drops of water over her arm and leg.