Skeen's Search (34 page)

“Yes. Of course.” Zelzony followed the boy outside into the pleasant grassy garden enclosed within two wings of the compound and a six-sided outer wall. It was a crisp spring afternoon, the sunlight brilliant and not too hot, a breeze wandering through treetops and occasionally dipping to wind across the flowerbeds and curl about several small decorative fountains. Giulin led her to a bench beside a fountain constructed from water polished stones and pebbles, planted with small curly ferns. A pair of budding lacetrees spread a delicate tracery of shadow over the wooden slats of the bench and the pale gray gravel of the path. Giulin waited until Zelzony was seated at one end of the bench, then perched himself on the other end.

As uncomfortable as the boy, Zelzony dredged up a smile. “Kinra Selyays showed me your prize prints; she was pleased with your eye and your technical skills.”

Giulin's nostrils flattened with embarrassment, he looked away, scowled at the water cascading over the stones. “Thank you,” he said after a moment, gruff and abrupt. “What's the offer? … ah, Zem-trallen.”

Zelzony drew her hand across her mouth, wiping away a smile the boy wouldn't appreciate. “The starship will be landing day after tomorrow, the colony transport. I assume you've heard of the Mistommerkykx Lipitero and her quest? Yes. Well. Kinravaly Rallen has won from the aliens the right to send observers. Bohalendas will be on board to take measurements for the society of Seekers. I am to be the Kinravaly's representative, there to make sure the aliens fulfill their contract with us, ortzin Marrinfej comes as my personal Aide. And there is one more place I can fill, that of Marrin's Aide. If you wish it, Giulin, that place is yours.”

His hands closed into fists, opened, closed again; he swallowed several times, sat staring at the water, his shoulder turned to her, courtesy forgotten in the intensity of his reaction. He swung round, stared at her. “Why me?”

She frowned at him, then spread her hands. “To be honest, the offer's to help me sleep better.”

“All that smik about my prints?”

“Not smik, Giulin, for me it's a pleasant extra, but you'll be doing the Kinravaly a service if you image the trip and the transfer through the Stranger's Gate for her. Perhaps some images of the Other Side.”

“The family knows about this offer?”

“Yes. The decision is yours, your parents insisted on that.”

“How long do I have to think about it?”

“Ah. It'll take a while to get the volunteers and their gear on board. Hmm. Take a senn't if you need it.”

“Ah umm, how long will I be gone?”

“The aliens say a round trip will need a bit over half a year.” Zelzony got to her feet. “I'll leave you to your thinking, Giulin. All-Wise Bless.”

Giulin got to his feet, looking shaken and uncertain. “Wait. A moment, Zem-trallen. I want to talk to my parents. How long are you going to be in Laby Youl?”

“I have to return to Kinravaly Reserve tonight, but I can spare another hour here.”

With a smile that came and went, excitement and uncertainty lighting his eyes, Giulin edged closer to her, touched her arm briefly, hesitantly. “I want to go. I think … I have to talk to my parents. Zem-trallen, you … I don't know … I can't …” A nervous giggle, a flare of his nostrils. “Thank you. In an hour. Please. I'll say for sure then. All-Wise Bless.”

“Zem-trallen, yes yes yes. What do I do, what do I bring, when will I leave here, how, will you come fetch me, can the family go too, what …” Giulin shut his mouth and danced from foot to foot as Zelzony held up her hand.

“One at a time, tidal wave. Let me see if I can remember them. You don't have to do a lot, fill a pack with a few things you'd like to have with you, put something in it to amuse you, bookfiches, games, fancy work, whatever you can fit in; the aliens tell me that starflight is rather like spending a long time in a small room with nothing much to look at. Ahh, I'll send a skip for you about a week from now. Perhaps two skips if I can talk the aliens into it, so you can bring your family. If I can manage only one and they don't mind a cramped ride, you can bring your parents but not the rest. The trip from Laby Youl to the Kinravaly reserve lasts a little over three hours. Bring your imagers, but don't bother about matrices, the Kinravaly will provide them. When you get back we'll sit you down in the University labs and apply the whip until you make history prints for every Gurn-set.” She smiled at the excited boy. “We're going to work the tail off you, Giulin.”

“Ehh scuzza.” Visibly containing an urge to whoop and run up the house tower to do a soardance through the clouds, Giulin contented himself with a grin that threatened to split his face in half.

“Anything else?”

“Ahhh, that Min woman, will she be around? I want images of her more than anything.”

“The observers will be on the transport, not on Picarefy. Ah, that's the alien Skeen's starship. Picarefy tells me there's some danger Beyond-the-Veil and Skeen wants to keep the Rallykx clear. Once we land, you'll most likely get your images.”

“Saa saa scuzzAH!”

“I hear you, Giulin. One week. All-Wise Bless.”

The transport drifted downward, a long black teardrop; one moment it was no more than a dark speck passing through the thin high clouds, the next moment it was an immensity so awesome a sigh passed like the wind across the crowd. Down and down, settling feather light on the lake's surface, nudging the water aside with deceptive gentleness, down and down until it reached equilibrium floating a handspan off the bottom. The water welled up with much the same gentle inevitability, swallowing the lakeshore and the surrounding hillocks, moving out and out with an eerie almost-silence, but Zelzony and her ortzin had moved the watchers and waiters to higher ground and none of the Ykx got their feet wet.

Breath caught in their throats, eyes wide, Saffron and Mauvi watched a round section of the black skin blink away and light shine out of a sudden opening that seemed tiny, like a pin prick, until a dark figure stepped into it and stood looking out at them. In an odd jarring switch, at first the lanky hairless alien was a doll less than a hand high carved from the darkest brown bitternut wood, then, abruptly, she was taller than most Ykx, and the pinprick was a portal three wings high.

“Woo ow, Mau, do you believe that?”

“Have to, don't I.” She shaded her eyes, then pointed. “Look, isn't that the Kinravaly?” A gold Ykx shimmering in the sunlight rode a gilded glittering wing soaring in high circles over the transport and the crowd.

“Must be.”

The Kinravaly looked down over the vast throng, faces turned to her like flowers to the sun. Her throat closed up and for several minutes she couldn't speak. She swallowed and sighed, lifted the borrowed loud hailer. “Ykx of Rallen, the starship is here, the time has come to know the names of those who will leave us. The Talan fej Vosslar, servant of the All-Wise, will draw the cards, I Kinravaly Rallen will call the names, those called will come into the area set aside for them.” She stopped talking a moment, feeling battered by shuddering waves of hope and yearning, fear and excitement coming at her from the crowd, it was like wingriding over the caldera of an active volcano. “Begin, Talan fej, begin.”

Jatsik, Sully Gather, Eggettak.

A massive brindle Ykx whooped and started pushing toward the roped off area.

Kulishka, Kevari and children, Lahusshin Gather, Oldieppe.

Weeping, laughing, dragging friends and kin with them, a family of browns with a tiny gold daughter started from near the back of the crowd, hands patting them as they passed other families.

Veratisca (poet), Laby Youl Gather, Yasyony.

Slender russet Ykx, laughing and crying at once, silence and a kind of mourning about her, sense of loss passing like a wind across the crowd when they heard her name.

Saffron and Mauvi (first pairing), Korika Gather, Itekkill.

Alazin, Elleret and children, Tikka Gather, Eggettak.

On and on the naming went; saturated by emotion, the crowd turned quiet and sad, kin hugged and nuzzled departing kin, friends touched and patted and hugged departing friends. Hour slid into hour, the Kinravaly sucked at a squeeze bottle of cold iska as her voice went hoarser than usual. The drums squealed and rustled as the Talan fej's acolytes turned their cranks. The volunteers in the roped off area sat or walked about, a few talked, broken bits of sentences, most were quiet, watching the Kinravaly, looking about with eyes like sponges, soaking in sights they knew they'd never see again. At the end of four hours, she called a halt for an hour's rest, retreated to the tower to eat a hasty meal, speak with Zelzony, Lipitero and Skeen who were on the towertop watching. When the hour was done, she winged to the waitingfield and went back to calling names.

Orica, Segetes and children, Filla Vam Gather, Urolol.

Esaros (soardancer), Masliga Gather, Urolol.

Yagara (sculptor), Trann Gather, Eggettak.

On and on, four hours, a break, four hours more; when the dark came down, beams of brilliant light sprayed from the transport, playing on the Kinravaly, lighting up the hillocks and the silent waiting Ykx.

On and on, throughout the night and most of the following day, until the last name was called, the last volunteer came through the ropes.

Shadows were long on the grass, then lost as the night came on; clouds thickened in the west and passed from vermilion to magenta to a vibrant midnight blue. The transport's lightbeams came on again, turned the Kinravaly into a shimmering wonder, bright against the black clouds overhead. “It is done,” she cried, her voice breaking under the strain of calling out all those names and the swirl of contradictory emotions filling her. “It is time now to bless those leaving us and be blessed by them. They go into strangeness and danger, they go and will not ever return. Take my blessing and my sorrow, children of Rallen, my admiration and my admonition to remember those you leave behind.”

I LOATHE PROTRACTED GOOD-BYES. YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. YOUR WELL-MEANING FRIENDS AND RELATIVES COME TO THE THE AIRPORT WITH YOU AND STAY FOR TWO HOURS AND YOU FIND YOURSELF WITH A DECAYING GRIN PASTED ON YOUR FACE MAKING CONVERSATION OF SUBLIME BANALITY AND YOU FINISH WITH GOOD-BYE REPEATED UNTIL THOSE TWO SYLLABLES CEASE TO HAVE ANY MEANING WHATSOEVER AND BECOME A HABIT IN THE MOUTH THAT LEAVES A SOUR TASTE. SO, SUPPLY FOR YOURSELF THE RITES AND RITUALS OF YKX LEAVETAHING (IF YOU FEEL THE NEED). ME, I'M MOVING ALONG.

PART V: THE ESCAPE

Skeen watched the transport climb past her, slanting upward with massive buoyancy, intending to leave the Veils behind by leaving behind the galactic plane, moving up and over the area of dust and disturbance, then serpentining down again weaving a secret way through the traps and toils of Empire and Empire's agents. She smiled at Tibo, lifted her glass, then sipped at the seablue wine. “Well, Pic, time we were leaving too, the dust is thicker our way.”

“Moving.” Picarefy's voice was dull, almost a monotone.

“What's the matter?”

Silence.

“Sulking, Pic?”

“So I'm going to miss her. Petro.”

“It happens to us all, Pic; friends move on. We miss them a while, then there's someone else. Or things start popping around you and you haven't got time, to think about sore spots, then when you get a free moment, the spots aren't as sore as they were.”

“Thanks. That helps so much.”

“Sarcasm doesn't become you, Pic.”

“That's one woman's opinion. Tk.”

“Where'd you acquire that?”

“Buzzard's party. Blue did it to irritate whoever he was arguing with. Tk.”

The lounge had changed again, it was a rough approximation of a long oval, heavy dark wood paneling, dozens of alcoves in the walls, shelves in them, books and bibelots on the shelves, a window seat, a window at the back of each alcove with a moving holograph behind it, each vista brilliantly detailed, each vista from a different world. Scattered about the room, chairs and tables of tight-grained dark wood, heavy, carved in sinous curves. A working fireplace, paintings and tapestry, imager prints in ornate frames, a dark green carpet with black tracery through it, plants in bright ceramic pots, ceramic lamps with pseudo fires burning pseudo oil. Timka was stretched out on a long elegant daybed upholstered in dark gray galatee. She wore a short kimono of heavy silk printed with huge flower forms in shades of pink and coral on an ivory ground, wrapped loosely about her and tied with a wide silk sash. A slight smile on her face, she was watching Rostico Burn prowl restlessly about, pulling down books, fingering small objects that were mostly hold-outs from Skeen's Roon raids, things that pleased her so she kept them. What he wanted to do was beat it out of here and head for the bridge where he'd be in on what was happening, but he didn't quite dare. He was clever enough to see behind Skeen's casual manner and recognize how ruthlessly she'd handle any trespassing. When Ross' perambulation began to irritate her, Timka crossed her legs at the ankles, laced her hands behind her head and spoke in a lazy murmur, “Picarefy, is there a screen in this room? Be nice if we could see what's happening.”

“Sorry, Ti. Didn't mean to let you slide like this. Here.” The huge dingy painting over the fireplace flicked out of existence; inside the gilt frame was a view of the Veils drifting around them and the increasingly distant spark that was the transport. “Teegah's Limit coming up. There won't be much to see after that.” A fragment of a laugh. “Though we will be sticking our nose into realspace often enough, the insplit around here looks like lumpy mush.”

“Leave it on, Pic. Looking at the mush might just give us the notion we know what's happening.”

“Gotcha.”

Timka watched Ross glance at the screen, then start prowling again. With a snort of disgust, she sat up. “Get off your feet for a while, Ross, you're making me jitsy as the Virgin.”