This Gulf of Time and Stars (19 page)

“I
'VE
TOLD YOU.
” Times without count, no matter how I attempted to contact whatever it was. “All it says is ‘here.'”

And all it wanted was in. That I didn't tell them, certain they'd agree.

“Ah.” Deni hummed to himself, then nodded. “Let me consult.”

Again.

After their initial excitement, my mother's group had morphed into remarkably disciplined scientists, checking me—and the crystal—with instruments, consulting in small groups, their privacy assured by touch and mind.

Conversations I could overhear if I wished.

I didn't. Much as I wanted—needed—answers, time was running out. I'd heard from Morgan. The
Fox
was insystem, bound for the Norval shipcity, a docking tug called and prepaid. If I
reached
to him now, all I'd sense would be the depth of his concentration.

Much as I wished to be there, my more sensible self knew I'd be of greater help here, searching for answers. I accepted a cup of sombay and worked on my patience.

Deni returned. “We think the Presence might respond in a different environment.”

I looked up at the lean Clansman, ready to suggest the ship, only to find him, along with my mother and others, ready for something else entirely. They'd summoned portlights to hover at shoulder height. Holl and Leesems had coils of rope over their shoulders, while Tle had slung a bag over hers. Mirim let me see her tuck the box with the unsettling crystal inside her jacket.

“What environment did you have in mind?” I asked. I wasn't going anywhere that required rope.

Until Tle smiled.
Ready for the truth?

The first truth I discovered was that the laboratory sat on an upper floor of what had been a maintenance building. We went down a lift that moved with reassuring smoothness, each of us locked in our own thoughts.

Mine having more to do with why this was a bad idea and what Morgan would say this time, I rocked back and forth on my feet.

Andi took my hand. She'd waited at the lift door to join us, something everyone else accepted without question. “I won't leave you,” she said quietly. “If that's all right?”

Birth Watchers. The instinct was stronger than I'd realized. This child was stronger. I looked down at Andi, thought of the strangeness inside me, and didn't hesitate. “Thank you. I accept.”

She nodded, her face serious.

The doors whooshed open. A portlight flew politely ahead.

Just as well. I'd been in a parking garage before, just not one abandoned. Beyond the circle of light was utter black and the cold air entering my nostrils reeked of machine. With the tower of waste piled against the outside walls, I thought it safe to assume the lift behind us was the only working exit.

For Clan who refused to 'port, other than Tle, they were brave.

Or foolish. Both, in my informed opinion. I kept hold of Andi's small hand; if anything went awry, I'd no compunction about 'porting her to safety with me.

“This way.”

Mirim and Tle went first and I followed, the others behind.
Our footfalls echoed, hiding any other sounds. The darkness folded in behind.

>Here<

As only I heard the insistent whisper, I did my utmost to ignore it. Ignoring my hair was less straightforward. It had become sly, reaching when I didn't notice for my mother—and the crystal.

Tle had braided her hair, it being limp and lifeless as suited a Chooser. My mother's behaved, immured in its net. I'd have threatened mine, for what good it would do, but knew better. There was a saying, “A Chosen's hair is desire's mirror.” What my hair expressed came from me, however emphatically I disagreed.

Ahead, the lead portlight reflected from something long and lean. Two somethings, resolving as we came close into a pair of battered groundcars, their roofs removed. I turned to Mirim. “How far are we going?”

“Under Norval,” she answered, lifting her light to reveal the opening of a dark tunnel.

It resembled nothing so much as a gaping mouth. Morgan wasn't going to like this.

“It's quite safe. We keep the system cleared, Speaker,” Leesems said quickly. “As best we can.”

Tle lifted a challenging eyebrow. “There are cave-ins. Rare, but some.”

Morgan wasn't going to like this at all.

F
INGERS
SCRABBLED, GRIPPED.
They found the latch, fought it. Flipped it. As the lock released, the lid and case parting with a puff of chilled air, the hand dropped back to the ground. It subvocalized a complaint.

Then scurried out of the way of a frost-crusted boot.

Ambridge Gayle crouched and spun, weapons drawn. After a careful survey of her surroundings, she stood and allowed herself the luxury of a stretch, bits of ice shattering free of her envirosuit. She'd been glad not to be in full stasis; relieved to have weapons to hand and the ability to use them should her case be misplaced in shipping.

After a day, she'd changed her mind.

Done now. She'd arrived, alive and unseen. Time to get to work. “Hurry up,” she told the Assembler, there being no point talking to pieces. Once the hat and head snicked into place, she snapped, “Where's Bowman?”

“Remember, we want the world, must have the world, must find the Hoveny world!”

“I'm aware,” Gayle said dryly. The Brill had been clear on his payment: the location of the Hoveny world. In other words, capture Bowman, retrieve what information she had about the Hoveny, then dispose of the corpse.

Been a while.

She rolled a shoulder, felt a familiar, almost visceral anticipation. Not so long at that. “What resources?”

“You ask, we have.” The Assembler wheezed with excitement. “After the Clan. Nest here. Burn it!”

“Your business, not mine.”

“Our business. All! Hoveny world. Treasure. Clan. All!” An overstimulated hand fell off and climbed back up.

Gayle regarded the creature. “Like it or not—” and she didn't, but matters were as they were “—the Brill has the ships. Your job's the mindcrawlers. He's sent me after Bowman. He knows what I can do,” with a slow smile.

At that smile, the Assembler known as Magpie Louli fragmented and scrambled in search of hiding places, larger pieces shoving aside the smaller in their haste.

“I see you do, too.”

T
HE
TUNNEL PROVED
to have a guidance rail down its center. Given we traveled beneath the collapsed rubble of an entire city—and familiar with aging machines—I distrusted my companions' touching faith in the system. On the other hand, staying down here any longer than we must was worse, so I hung on to the provided strap and endured a speed more suited to flying through open air without protest.

A protest I would have had to
send,
the whine of the groundcars at full power deafening, let alone the grind of their track beneath. Fortunately there were airshields that rose once we were underway. They wouldn't save us from being crushed, but at least we could breathe.

Andi sat next to me, Mirim on her other side. Deni, who seemed to share her leadership, was in front, beside what would be the driver's seat, if anyone was driving who did breathe. But no, the group installed a boxlike servo in each 'car, revealing yet another chasm between these Clan and the ones I'd known.

The
Fox
was controlled by similar machines, tucked under her consoles and throughout her inner hull. I knew that.

I just didn't quite believe it.

Usually, it didn't matter if I did or not. Morgan had shown me how to communicate with the ship until, on my own, I could
input commands with reliable results. Usually. Every so often, I suspected the
Fox
of being deliberately obtuse or worse, jealous of her master's affections and out to get me.

Not a suspicion to express aloud.

To my further dismay, we traveled through not one tunnel, but a series, expanding the possibilities for failure. Widened sections offered choices and, each time, our vehicles reoriented to enter a particular opening without slowing.

I eyed the servo box, guessing its true purpose was to navigate this maze. That should have been reassuring—after all, course disks took the
Fox
from world to world—but I'd no idea where we were going.

The Presence had an opinion.
>Here . . . here . . . here<

The Presence being either insane or some ghost of the M'hir—or both—I kept ignoring it.

Andi squeezed my hand.
We're almost there.

I wasn't ashamed to be grateful for her comfort.
What's ‘there' like?

A moment's concentration, then an image filled my mind.

Now I knew why they'd brought rope.

Granted the child viewed the world from a smaller stature; that didn't make her view of a gaping black hole any less terrifying. Keeping that reaction to myself, I did my best to understand what she shared.

No cave-in, this, but a carefully cut opening, with rings embedded around it presumably for the ropes. The nearby wall was intact; the floor clear of debris.

It was still a hole. I wasn't in a hurry to see it for myself, let alone go down it.

Of course, that's when the groundcar began to slow.

“We're here!”

Here, Norval was whole. Lights had flickered on, steadying when we approached. I climbed out of the groundcar, looking around in astonishment. Had I not known there was a mountain of
compacted destruction directly overhead, I'd have thought the collapse a lie. Ahead of me stretched unbroken pipe and smooth floors, untouched.

Except for the hole carved in the floor.

“Everyone built on top,” Holl informed me with a note of pride. “They depended on the superb construction done by the Second Wave—of alien colonists, that is—to support layer upon layer. It didn't fail.”

“Yet,” Tle pointed out, ever-cheerful.

I went as close to the hole as I dared and looked down. Sensing my attention, a portlight detached from the group and obligingly plunged into the depths.

To disappear below.

“What's down there?” I asked.

“What came before,” Mirim supplied. She set Holl and Leesems to attaching the ropes. “You'll see.”

Not if they expected me to climb hand-over-hand into what might as well be bottomless. They'd servos, why not anti-grav units?

A needless question, I discovered, for the Clansmen went behind a curl of pipe twice my height to return with the next best thing. I'd seen these before. Personal lifts, that attached to a guide rope but provided both security and power.

Tle came to stand with me.

I had to ask. “Why store those here”—I indicated the lifts—“and not the ropes?”

“To keep the more enthused of our group from descending alone.”

I raised a brow. “That's happened?”

“Treasure hunting gets in the blood.” A smug little smile. “The artifacts on display came from the Sarc tower or were passed through families. We've found more. Many more.”

Down a hole. I gazed at her. “You found—or was it Kurr di Sarc?”

“He was first, yes.”

Without hesitation or guilt. What was I missing?

Mirim joined us. “Kurr brought his discovery to me, Sira. Whatever he thought of my—our—beliefs, he knew we had the
resources and time he didn't. And that we wouldn't squander this precious find for our own gain. He worked with us until—his loss was keenly felt.”

By none more than Dorsen, his Chosen, and the child within her, dragged into the M'hir.

I calmed myself. Easy to credit Kurr, with his love for old things, had found allies here. But why here? “What's down there?” I repeated.

“The Origin,” Andi exclaimed, then quickly gestured apology to her elders for the interruption, though her eyes shone and I wasn't the only one to find myself smiling at her
EXCITEMENT.

>Here<

The reminder wiped away my smile. “Explain, now,” I said tightly. Or I'd leave. Deny the M'hir all they liked, they had to know I could.

“The Origin is where we came into this world. That's where we thought the artifacts would lead us.” Mirim gestured to the hole.

Deni spoke up. “Unfortunately, what we've collected had been scattered. By animals. Carelessness. Haste. We haven't found their source. Not yet.”

“We all hope this—” my mother touched the box secured to her belt, “—and you, will show us.”

“The truth,” Tle said fervently.

The truth? The truth, I thought with disgust, was that they'd no more idea how to find the Clan Homeworld than I did.

It had been a mistake to come down here, to let their “treasure hunt” lure me from reality. “You can keep that,” I told my mother, nodding at the box and its frightening contents.

I prepared to 'port—

“Sira.” Mirim held out her hands as if she'd sensed what I was about to do; perhaps she could. We'd been linked once. “Give us a little time. You've only just come—given us our first taste of hope. Please.”

Despite my better judgment, I hesitated.

“The next level down, Speaker,” Holl pleaded, coming to stand beside Mirim. “Walk where our ancestors walked. The feeling is indescribable.”

Curiosity wasn't a good reason. I'd other duties.
Jason,
I sent.
How is Ruti?

Better,
came his prompt reply
. Haunted, but determined. Jacqui's helped her sleep.

So they didn't need me. Not right away.

Don't let anything blow up without me,
I suggested with
affection.

Deal. How's the search going?

I looked at the faces anxiously watching mine and sighed.
I'll let you know.

“The next level,” I stipulated. “No deeper.” And no animals.

Curiosity being what it was.